


New beginnings

by Casey_K



Series: The Diary of Reid and Caffrey [1]
Category: Criminal Minds (US TV), White Collar
Genre: Canon Divergence, Crossover, Developing Relationship, First Meetings, First Time, Fluff and Smut, Fresh Start, M/M, Occasional mentions of previous addiction, Occasional mentions of previous non-con, Recovery, Season 8 Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-05
Updated: 2018-05-08
Packaged: 2019-04-18 14:36:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 28
Words: 65,969
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14215299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Casey_K/pseuds/Casey_K
Summary: An alternative ending to the 'Maeve' situation.Reid can't get passed what he sees as his teams betrayal. They have never taken him seriously...as a grown up. It's time for a fresh start, in a new city. It's time for Reid to go it alone and rebuild.New York is big and bright and just what Reid needs to take his mind off Maeve. There is also the attention of the slick confidence man, Neal Caffrey, to deal with. Reid has to make a decision--be the same old Spencer, alone with his books, or to embrace a new life, a new team, and a new love.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I thought these two beautiful boys deserved some special loving. It started out as a fic where Reid would ultimately end up with Morgan, but....well, I guess you'll have to wait and see.
> 
> The timeline for White Collar is sketchy. I like Hughes, so he's still in it even though the rest is probably set somewhere around the beginning of season 5.

It didn’t matter how many ways Reid reviewed the situation, how many times he tried to give his colleagues—his friends—an excuse, he couldn’t find one. They had stood by, they had watched and done nothing, they had witnessed Reid’s world unravelling but instead of taking the shot that would have saved the woman he loved, they had allowed her to die right in front of him. He didn’t—couldn’t—blame them for her death, they didn’t deliver the bullet that killed her, but he couldn’t forgive them for not trying to save her. There was no guarantee anything they did would have saved her, he knew that, but to stand there are not try…that, that was unforgivable. After three weeks of going over and over and over it, he was exhausted. He was exhausted, and he was done. Done with every single one of them who had been there. Watching. And doing nothing.

His phoned buzzed. Morgan. Again. Reid left it to go to voice mail. He’d trusted Morgan with his life, loved him, at one point even thought perhaps he was in love with him, but now even thinking of him brought bile to his throat and a flush of anger so intense Reid had trashed much of his apartment. At least the tears had abated. He’d loved Maeve, deeper than he thought possible, but she was just a phone call a week, the flash of a stranger’s body hitting the floor in a spray of blood with another’s. He missed their long, rambling conversations, the joining of minds, an intellect to match his own, but how could he miss a body he’d never held, lips he’d never kissed? He was nothing if not pragmatic. But he could mourn for the lost possibility. A love lost before it even began. A future of happiness stolen away in a flash of a muzzle.

He picked up his phone and played the message Morgan had left. It was a good ruse, asking about a case. He called back with a suggestion. He couldn’t allow a killer to keep on killing, He couldn’t let the team fail the potential victims just because they had failed him. 

Slowly, slowly, they drew him further into the case, and he realised what he needed to do. He was tired of all the death and depravity. He was tired of being alone in a sea of people. It was time to move on. He flew out to meet them, holding in the rage and despair, and helped the team close the case. Hotch was the hardest to stay mad at. They had been with him when Hayley paid the ultimate price for loving someone from the BAU. If anyone had any idea of what Reid was going through, it was Hotch. He couldn’t be mad at Garcia. She wasn’t there. She hadn’t failed him. On the jet, they offered to help. Anything, they said. 

“There is one thing you can help me with. I’m leaving the BAU. You need to let me go.”

He didn’t tell them a new job was already waiting for him, in a new city. A new team. Still FBI, but something completely different. He packed up his apartment, and by the time Morgan called him a few days after the case ended, he was already long gone. He returned the call one last time. 

“Reid, man, come on. Let me at least say goodbye in person.”

“I love you, Morgan. I love all of you, but I have to do this. Please don’t call me again. I don’t want to have to change my number.” He hung up before hearing Morgan’s reply. Today was a new day. Today he would build a new life. 

 

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO

 

New York always looked so big on TV. The few times Reid had been there for the BAU, he hadn’t had time to appreciate the sights, to wander the streets, take the subway like a normal person, just taking in the living breathing pulse of the city. He was surprised that he liked it. There was something anonymous and yet embracing about the people, the buildings, the noise, and the air almost thick enough to see. Every street a patchwork of yellow cabs and neon signs. Lone trees struggling to reach for a cleaner sky. Just like Reid. 

The building was all glass, on the corner of a busy street. People here walked, rode the subway, jumped on a bus. SUV’s and cars were for fieldwork. There were some prominent teams working out of this building. The director promised a certain level of anonymity for the new team he’d created, of which, Reid was the last member recruited. They were trouble-shooters, cold-case closers for every division and as such were ghosts. They breezed in when there was a problem and left before being noticed. The director liked to call them his ‘think-tank’, the brightest and the best working together to fix the problems every day teams couldn’t. 

Reid was nervous. The idea of a new team was exciting and terrifying. Four new people to pick him apart into characteristics they could then dislike. He hesitated when the elevator arrived, took a deep breath and stepped in. As the doors started to close a guy slipped through the doors and flashed a cheeky grin. He was about Reid’s age, maybe younger, athletic build, smartly dressed and holding a hat. He said something Reid didn’t catch.

“I’m sorry?”

“You haven’t selected a floor.” The guy pointed at the panel. 

“Oh, um. Nineteen, thank you.”

“First day?”

“Yes.” Reid pushed his hands further into his pant pockets. “In New York,” he added. “I’ve been with the FBI eight years.”

“Really? Impressive for someone so young.”

Reid smiled. “I’m older than I look.” He was saved from further small talk when the doors opened onto the nineteenth floor.”

“Good luck,” the guy said, but Reid could only blink at the blindingly bright smile before the doors closed. 

 

The office buzzed through the double glass doors. A few corridors led away from the main bull pen, and stairs at the far end led to a mezzanine with glass walled offices. Just like DC. A second lift opened behind him, and Reid turned around. A woman—girl maybe—stepped off the elevator, blonde, pretty, dressed not unlike Garcia. She smiled. “Are you Dr. Reid?”

Reid smiled. “How did you guess?”

“Young, sweater vest, a haircut that is definitely not your usual regulation ex-military or Harvard brat. You look like one of us.” She grinned. “I’m Greta Ferina. Come on, I’ll show you the bat cave.”

It was a short walk through the bullpen, left at the water cooler, third door on the right. The lack of small talk was a bonus. The office was large, and nothing like Garcia’s bat cave. In fact, it was mostly windows. There looked to be two small conference rooms and a mini bull pen with six desks. Another wall full of monitors was opposite a small kitchen area. “They like to keep us contained.” Greta smiled. There were three other people in the room, two guys and another woman, all of them looking expectantly at him. 

“This the newbie?” It was difficult to tell anyone’s age, other than to say they were all probably within five years of each other, and all dressed similarly, which is to say unlike the rest of the FBI suits he’d seen on his journey through the building so far. With the exception of the guy with the hat, whose suit was as far from standard as could be.

“This is Dr. Reid,” Greta said.

“Please, call me Spencer.” Rule one for his new life. Reid worked for the BAU. Spencer worked here.

“I’m Dougie, this is Maurice—likes to be called Reece—and Miandra-don’t-call-me-Mimi. We all go by first names here. It’s nice to meet you, Spencer.” Dougie didn’t hold out his hand, which was a relief. The other two waved. 

“I’m, uh, looking forward to working with you all.” Spencer fidgeted. “I should tell you upfront I’m socially awkward and tend to ramble when I’m nervous. I have a very high I.Q. so I tend to spout random facts, but they are usually related in some way to the case I’m working on. I’m used to people just telling me to stop when it gets too much.”

Reece laughed. “You are going to fit right in. We’re all socially awkward, so get used to too many home truths, and shuffling feet. As for the I.Q., very high is relative here. We’ve been selected for this team because of our high I.Q.’s, so you are in good company.”

“Some days we refer to each other by our I.Q’s rather than our names.” Miandra had a British accent, Liverpool possibly. “I’m 173, Greta is 180, Dougie is our token dumber at 162, and Reece the headliner at 185. What do we call you?”

“Uh, I guess that makes me 187, at your service.”

“Yes.” Dougie applauded. “You are no longer top-dog, Reecey.” Dougie turned to Spencer. “You have no idea how much I wanted you to score higher than Reece. He can be impossible sometimes.”

“I’m sure I can be too,” Spencer said. 

“But, Greta is still the boss.” Reece pointed at Greta, who was smiling.

“I really don’t have a problem with that.”

“Great stuff.” Greta smiled again. “Let’s get you settled.”

There was a meditative beauty going through cold cases that left Spencer with a happy buzz. In the two weeks he’d been with his new team they had closed three cases and had new leads on two others. It was good work. Satisfying. The steady hours had given him time to get an apartment organised and he was hoping to spend the weekend at the museum and with his head stuck in several new books. 

“Hey, Spencer,” Dougie called as Spencer was tidying his desk ready for the weekend. “You’ve been here long enough now, it’s time you came out with us for a drink.”

“Oh, I don’t really drink a great deal.”

“You don’t have to, and I insist. Besides, if you aren’t comfortable none of us will mind if you cut out early. You just have to see what it’s like first, okay?”

Spencer considered for a moment. It couldn’t hurt, and he had promised himself he’d be more social in his new life. “Okay. Do you go straight from here, or do I meet you later?”

“Straight from here. We go to a bar for a few drinks, have something to eat, and then usually go dancing.”

“Oh, I really don’t like clubbing.”

“I didn’t say clubbing, did I?” Dougie grinned. “If you make it that far, you are in for a treat. We go to a Forties club. Friday night is Swing Night.”

Now that was something new. “Count me in.”

 

It was funny how tragedy often gave way to new growth. The scars from losing Maeve, losing that potential, losing such a beautiful mind, still smarted. The ache deep inside would catch him unawares and coloured the edges of his mind. But here, just two weeks in to a new job, a new home, new friends, Spencer felt as at home and comfortable as he had anywhere in his thirty years. Maybe it was the fact the team were all technically geniuses, maybe it was because they had lived similar lives with bullying, and isolation, maybe it was because they had similar interests—were all classified as nerds or geeks—but Spencer just fitted in. For the first time in his life. 

Reece set up another round of drinks. “Now, Spencer, I don’t want to put you on the spot here…” Dougie and Miandra were already giggling. 

“No more general knowledge,” Greta interrupted. “It’s time to go dancing.” They all knocked back their drinks, and Spencer allowed Greta to link arms with him and lead him out of the bar and along the street.

The club was…different. Different than any Spencer had been in before. There were proper tables grouped around a large dance floor, a long bar at the far end and a real band on the stage. A second tier of raised tables swept around the outside, and another floor with more tables overlooking the rest of the club. It was tastefully decorated and the lighting, although subdued, allowed you to see what was going on. It wasn’t very busy, but it was barely ten o’clock. 

“We come early,” Miandra said, “because there are dance lessons until eleven.”

“I’m not sure that would be a good idea for me.”

“Oh, you have to. We all do. Because we suck so badly.” She laughed and dragged him on to the dance floor while the others found a table. Every bone in Spencer’s body groaned but he went along with it. For now.

All in all, it seemed Spencer was reasonably good at Swing. Possibly because flailing limbs seemed to be part of the dance and made it look as though he was good at improvising. The most important thing was that he laughed. And laughed. There wasn’t a time in recent memory he had so much fun in a group activity. Dougie was terrible, but he just got out there and made a spectacle of himself, and made Spencer look even better on the dance floor. He was exhausted by the end of the night. So this was what having real buddies was like. The BAU team had been good friends, always there in a tight spot, but they humoured Spencer and his quirks. Yes, because they loved him and cared about him, but not because they could understand and embrace him. Not fully, anyway. But this, this was a revelation. Sure, he missed movie nights with Morgan, and shopping with the girls—even if he only ever carried their bags—even cooking with Rossi but having friends who were different incarnations of himself…it was a blessing Spencer hadn’t expected to ever have in his life. Who’d have thought it of New York City? But Spencer was finally home.


	2. Chapter 2

There was something different about the office. Neal felt it as soon as he walked in. a gentle buzz under the surface. It didn’t take long to track down…there was a meeting in progress in the conference room. He watched from his desk for a few minutes. Not a meeting. The group around the table had their heads down over paperwork, and nobody was talking. Long slender fingers reached into the box on the table to pull out another file. A single sentence spoken, and Neal could sense the over articulation through the glass wall. The rest of the group laughed, and Neal’s heart fluttered at the blazing smile given in return. He’d seen the guy around a few times, spoken to him once, on his first day. God, he was glorious. Gorgeous, for sure, but there was an energy around him, so vibrant, so…intoxicating. Neal realised he was staring, with his mouth open, no less. He pulled himself together, straightened his tie. He had a new mission—to find out the identity of his new crush and ask him out for a drink. He headed to the coffee machine and sidled up to Jones who was already there. 

“What’s going on up there?”

“Visiting team. They’re looking at cold cases.”

“Cold cases? Sounds interesting. Maybe I shoulder ask Peter if I can help.” Neal filled a mug with coffee.

Jones gave him the side eye. “Since when have you been interested in working cold cases?”

“Since he fell in lust through the glass.” They both turned at the sound of Peter’s voice. “I saw your jaw drop.” Peter took Neal’s coffee and added sugar, a small smirk hovering around the edges of his mouth.

There was no point denying it. Peter always saw through Neal. “Well, can you blame me? I mean there is beauty, and then there is that.” Neal turned back and nodded towards the office. He sighed as the guy’s hair flopped over his face. Totally done for, and he didn’t even know his name. Yet. 

“I didn’t think you were into blondes,” Diana said, joining their huddle.

“Who said anything about blondes?” Neal looked again. There was a blonde woman, pretty enough, sat next to his ‘David’. “Oh, yes, I can see she’d be your type, Diana.”

“Then who are you drooling over?”

“Firstly, I am not drooling.”

“You were just now,” Peter added. He looked up at the group. “There’s only one other woman up there…” Neal saw the penny drop and groaned internally. His flexible sexuality wasn’t something that had come up so far in his relationship with Peter even with their own sexual tension. “Unless…” Peter grinned. “It’s the guy with the floppy hair, isn’t it?” Jones and Diana whistled.

“Okay, I admit I’m more of a slinky than a straight arrow, but you have to admit he is beautiful. I mean, look at that bone structure. Peter you have to let me in that room. Please?”

“I don’t have to anything. And the answer is no. We’ve been given strict instructions to stay away and let them do their thing.”

“But, Peter…”

“But nothing. They usually work out of their own office, but there were too many files to transfer. Your little crush prefers to work with paper.”

“Peter…”

“No.”

“Oh, come on, Peter.” Diana chuckled. “At least tell him who the guy is.”

“His name is Dr. Spencer Reid. He transferred to the new Think-Tank a month ago from the BAU in DC.”

“Behavioural Analysis?” Jones raised an eyebrow. “In that case, you have got to let Caffrey in there. I’d pay to see him in a room with a profiler.”

“He’s a good one, too. The word on the grapevine is that they send a transfer request for his return every Monday without fail.”

“Wait,” Neal said. “What’s the new Think-Tank?”

Peter sighed. “The director picked the brightest agents and analysts from all over the country. All super I.Q. genius types to clear the back log of cold cases and consult to any unit across the Bureau. They come in, we leave them alone, they work their own special brand of magic. They go.”

“You have to let me in there, Peter. Super I.Q.’s?”

Diana smiled. “You have to admit, Peter, it would be entertaining.”

“Another thing I would pay money to see,” Jones added. “Neal Caffrey cut down to size by a team of genius agents.”

“Not happening. Now get back to work. Neal, I happen to know you have three cases on your desk to review.”

Neal turned on his heel and stomped off. If Peter wouldn’t help, he’d find a way to speak to Dr. Spencer Reid himself.

 

He didn’t have to wait long. After another hour passed Dr. Reid—Spencer—ventured to the coffee machine. Neal intercepted. “The coffee here is as bad as it looks, but, uh, I know a great place just down the street if you wanted to pop out.” Spencer looked up at Neal from behind the rim of his cup. “Hi,” Neal smiled, “I’m Neal.”

“I know who you are.” Reid blew into his cup and then took a sip. “You’re right, this is really bad coffee.” He looked at his cup with such a disappointment, Neal wanted to give him a hug and tell him it would all be okay. “You’re Neal Caffrey. Convicted felon. Confidence man. Currently seconded to White Collar from prison as a civilian consultant.”

“I see you have the highlights.” Neal didn’t hide his disappointment either. He was gutted to have been written off so quickly. “I’m a good guy…aside from the conviction.”

“In the three years you’ve been here, your handler has been suspended, kidnapped, demoted—albeit temporarily—and arrested for murder. I believe his wife was kidnapped as well, by the same known associate of yours.”

“Wow, you’ve really done your homework. Whereas all I know about you is that you have a genius I.Q. and are sorely missed by the BAU in DC.”

“I like to know as much as I can about a division we’re asked to work with. It helps me understand the way the files are put together.”

“Profiling the agents on the case? That won’t make you very popular.”

“It’s not my job to be popular. It’s my job to close cases. Understanding the agent writing up the report allows me to extrapolate the information they may have thought unnecessary to include, which may actually be valuable in solving the case.”

Neal swallowed hard. He was in so much trouble. His knees felt weak, his heart was fluttering. Just listening to the guy talk was doing all kinds of strange things to his insides. They stood looking at each other until Reid wrinkled his nose and put down his coffee cup. “Even my caffeine addiction can’t allow that to slide for coffee.” Oh, god, was he pouting? “Where did you say the coffee place was?” Neal blinked a few times. “Are you okay?”

“What? Yes, uh, I’ll show you.”

“No need, I’ll find it with a few directions.”

“I insist. I’m due a coffee break about now.”

“We’re not supposed to interact with case agents.”

“I’m not an agent. Come on, live a little.” 

Spencer gave him a calculating look. “Are you asking me to join you for coffee as a colleague or are you asking me on a date?” Neal’s mouth opened but no words came out. Profiler, indeed. “Because if it’s the later I have to say I’m not impressed with the idea of twenty minutes at the local coffee shop.”

“In that case, how about we start with coffee, and conclude with dinner this evening?”

“Spencer,” one of his colleagues called from the office door. “We need you to look at something.”

“Duty calls.” Spencer grinned. “I guess it will have to be dinner.” He was gone before Neal could make the arrangements. Five minutes later, the whole team whisked passed him in a cloud of chatter. He looked up as someone stopped in front of his desk. “We’re going for coffee. You want to join us?” Spencer smiled, and Neal’s breath caught in his chest. 

He stood, grabbing his suit jacket from the back of his chair. “Absolutely.”

“Neal.” He looked around to see Peter waving him to the office.

“Damn it.”

Spencer smiled. “I guess we’ll have to rain check.” And then he was gone.


	3. Chapter 3

Two days had passed, and Neal hadn’t had anything more than a smile and a wave from Dr. Spencer-let’s-do-dinner-Reid. Every time Neal looked to get within speaking distance Peter would show up and divert him. It was getting old really fast. He sat at his desk watching Spencer’s animated speech to his team. One of the other guys, a short, stocky dark-haired ape of a guy in a loud sweater vest and a bow tie, scribbled on one of the many case boards now in the conference room. a shuffle of papers across the table, the blonde woman said something, and Spencer…Spencer looked right at Neal and smiled. He said something and the whole team turned to look at Neal. Neal flushed, but he couldn’t look away. He could feel his face burning as he watched Spencer leave the conference room and knock on Hughes’ office door. There was a short conversation followed by them both going to Peter’s office. Neal watched as Peter’s shoulders slumped. Peter looked over to Neal. Neal realised he’d forgotten to breathe in the time it had taken Hughes to speak to Peter. He took a gulp of air just as Peter waved for him. He tried not to trip over his own feet in his rush to get there.

“Caffrey,” Hughes said. “This is Dr Spencer Reid. It seems he and his team could use your expertise on a case they’re working on.” Hughes smiled and placed a hand on Neal’s shoulder. “This will be a big win for you if it pans out. Do us proud, Caffrey.”

“I’ll try my best.” Neal was still slightly numb as Peter rattled off some rules to Spencer. 

“Neal.” Neal looked at Peter. “What is with you?” Peter shook his head. “As we don’t have any active cases that need your particular skill set, you will work with Dr. Reid…”

“Spencer, please.”

“You will work with Spencer and the team. You will not be in the field, so you stay within your radius at all times. Do you understand?”

“I understand.” Spencer was grinning, and Neal couldn’t help but smile.

“Do not make me regret this.”

“Peter, have a little faith.” Peter’s groan was audible, but Neal was already following Spencer into the conference room.

 

It was a forgery case. A very interesting forgery case Neal had caught wind of years before when he was first cashing his bonds and new to the city. He new Mozzie had danced around the edges of it though not been directly involved. They worked for a couple of hours on new leads the team had uncovered—they were good, very good—until they hit a dead end.

“I have a contact I can speak to. He’s a little unorthodox, but he’s helped us before. I’ll call him.”

Greta narrowed her eyes. “We have to review any new information personally. He’ll need to come in for a formal interview.”

“That would never happen.”

There was a standoff, where Greta tried to intimidate Neal with sheer will-power, and Neal remained immoveable. A lesser man would have caved, but Neal wanted to make an impression, one that showed he could play with the big brains and hold his own. 

“What about if we were to meet him in a social situation,” Spencer asked. “Would he talk then?”

“Not if you’re carrying your gun like that.” 

Spencer looked down at where his gun hung on his belt. The hip holster on such slender hips made the gun look twice the size it was. Spencer frowned. “I don’t wear my gun in social situations.”

The others snorted. Reece, in particular, looked…pissed. “Where do the rest of you keep your guns?”

“We aren’t licensed field agents.” Greta smoothed out her flowery fifties style dress. “We’re analysts. We don’t carry weapons.”

Only field agent on his team. Interesting. “I’ll run the idea by him.” How the hell was he supposed to convince Mozzie to meet this lot? The normal suits were bas enough. This ragtag collection of super-brains… “Actually, I think I may have just the thing. Do any of you play cards? Poker, maybe?”

“Oh, please,” Dougie snorted, pulling at his bow-tie. “We’re all banned from at least one casino a piece for counting cards. Spencer has a blanket ban with every casino in Vegas.”

Spencer grinned. “It’s where I grew up.”

“Vegas card shark. Nice. In that case, let me make a few calls. Keep tomorrow evening free.”

 

Neal stopped by the coffee machine after making the arrangements with June and Mozzie for a poker night. Mozzie couldn’t resist going up against the best minds the Bureau had to offer and was practically champing at the bit to get started. Oh, how things change. 

“So, what’s the skinny on the brainiacs?” 

Neal smiled at Jones. “They are good. The speed at which they think is incredible. You know, Dougie has the lowest I.Q. on the team at 162. They can see patterns in the information that I bet the unsubs aren’t aware they work to. I mean, I am impressed. Seriously impressed.”

“Unsub? Be careful, Caffrey, you’re starting to sound like an agent. What would Mozzie think?”

“Interesting you should ask. I’ve just set up a poker night at June’s with Mozzie and our card counting geniuses. Should be a fun evening.”

“Now that I would like to see.”

“Consider yourself invited.” Neal took a sip of his coffee and grimaced. He was going to have to replace the coffee machine himself. “Tomorrow night. Eight-thirty. Don’t worry, we’re playing for match sticks.”

“I’m in.” They clinked coffee cups and headed back to work.

 

To say the evening was a success was the understatement of the year. Mozzie hit it off with Miandra and Dougie straight away. He was in awe of Greta, and suspicious of Reece, which made the evening entertaining. After losing all his match sticks, Mozzie gambled with information on their current case…and lost. He was thoroughly humbled but after catching out Dougie and Reece on separate general knowledge questions left redeemed. Spencer hovered until everyone else had gone home. June said her goodnights and left the two of them alone in the hall. Neal had butterflies in his stomach. “Do you, uh, fancy a night cap? I have an apartment upstairs.”

Spencer smiled. “Is your coffee as good as June’s?”

“I guess there’s only one way for you to find out.” Neal led the way upstairs, nervous for the first time in so long. He opened the door to allow Spencer to walk through. 

“Nice.” Spencer headed straight for the bookcase, scanning its contents. 

“Will this count as a date for you?” He closed the door and followed to stand next to Spencer.

“That depends,” Spencer said, turning to face Neal, and smiling. 

Neal’s knees felt weak. It was a shy smile, but boy, it held so much promise with just a dash of mischief. “On?” Neal’s voice was quiet, broken.

“On this.” And Spencer leaned in pressing his lips to Neal’s. Neal let out an embarrassing moan but pulled Spencer closer, deepening the kiss, and giving Spencer access to slip his tongue inside. Neal ran his fingers through Spencer’s hair, pulling him closer still. Unbelievably good. Spencer tasted sweet, with the bitter edge of coffee, and something complicated Neal wanted more of. 

When they finally pulled away, Neal could only lean his forehead against Spencer’s. “I’ve wanted to do that since the first morning in the elevator.”

Spencer kissed Neal’s temple. Still shy, with a slight tremble in his hand where it rested on Neal’s hip. “I think maybe I have too. I’ve certainly never initiated a first kiss before, so I must have wanted it a lot.”

“Hopefully you want to continue?”

“More than you know.” 

Neal pressed his lips to Spencer’s cheek, then back to his mouth. So good, and yet Neal realised probably never enough.They made out like teenagers until Spencer finally made his excuses and left with the promise of a second date soon. Neal re-evaluated exactly how much trouble he was in and jerked off to the feel of Spencer’s lips against his.


	4. Chapter 4

They spent much of the next day stealing glances and what they thought were secret smiles before being called to order by the rest of the team. So much for keeping things low key. Even Jones kept grinning at Neal, but it seemed he hadn’t let on to Peter about their poker night. There was a blessing in there somewhere if Neal had time to look for it between the ribbing from Spencer’s team.

“Dinner tonight?” Neal asked during a short break and sitting on the desk in front of Spencer, as close as he could get without sitting on his lap.

“I’d like that.” Spencer squeezed Neal’s thigh. “But I’m meeting the team later.”

“We could go straight from work.” 

Spencer nodded, and stood from his chair, leaning close to Neal. “Can’t wait.” Neal’s cock thickened. So much trouble.

Mozzie’s lead paid off and by late afternoon they had solved the case. There hadn’t been an arrest, as such, because the forger—one, Anton Braysac it turned out Neal had brushed shoulders with several times over the course of his career pre-FBI—was already in prison. New charges were drawn up to ensure he stayed there, and Neal remembered how blessed he was that Peter had taken a chance and given him his deal. Not that the deal would stand if the FBI ever brought charges for the many, many, other cons, thefts and forgeries Neal was responsible for. Peter knew about many of them after a night, long ago, when Peter had offered immunity, but if things with Spencer were going the way he hoped they were—which was ridiculous to even consider after one date—Neal was going to have to share one more time and hope it didn’t land him in jail with Braysac. He could test the waters at least. Starting with dinner and date number two.

 

Dinner was pleasantly surprising. Neal knew they would get along, but the extent at which their interests overlapped was, well, it was impressive. They started off with anecdotes from various cases, and soon ended up discussing foreign films and Russian poetry, Greek philosophy, fine art, and even finer wine. 

“You know your antiquities,” Neal said, refilling Spencer’s glass.

“As do you. Though mine is only a hobby, not even that, more a general interest.”

“More than a passing interest, surely, with the depth of your knowledge.”

“Eidetic memory.” Spencer tapped his temple but gave a sad smile. “I recall even the things I would choose to forget.”

“That sounds like an interesting story.” Spencer sighed, his face—so expressive—took on a tortured look and his breathing shallowed. “Maybe for another time?” Neal added, hoping to recapture the lightness from before. 

Spencer smiled briefly and checked his watch, strapped over his shirt and cardigan as seemed to be his style. “Which reminds me I should be leaving to meet the team.”

“And what do the FBI’s most prestigious geniuses do on a Friday night?”

Spencer smiled. “We go dancing.”

Neal frowned. “I wouldn’t have pegged you as a club aficionado.” Even Neal didn’t go clubbing, and he was far more…socially aspiring than Spencer or any of the team. 

“I didn’t say clubbing, I said dancing. Friday night is swing night. We go to a Forties club.”

Now that Neal could get behind. “And does the success of our dinner date win me an invitation?”

Spencer waved over the waiter. Neal handed over his credit card before Spencer had a chance to. “Thank you.” He squeezed Neal’s hand. “I would have invited you earlier, but the club is potentially just outside of your radius, dependant on how the parameters are set and where the exact centre point is located within the office building.”

“Hmm, that could be a problem. How about we head that way and if I start beeping I’ll go home alone?”

“If you’re sure. I wouldn’t want you to leave disappointed after such a lovely meal.”

“The chance of continuing the evening with you is worth the risk.” Ah, there was that blindingly beautiful smile Neal was beginning to crave. Something so naïve and yet mysterious hovered just under the surface of his new beau and Neal wanted to uncover it, celebrate it, bathe in it. 

“In that case, I’ll lead the way.”

 

The walk to the club was just as enlightening as dinner. Good conversation, an arm around his waist, they even held hands for a while, and that…Neal hadn’t realised how intimate the simple pleasure of holding hands could be. The energy from Spencer’s body seemed to flow directly through into Neal anytime they touched, and especially skin to skin. He’d say it was due to the fact he missed having someone to be with, but the reality was much more. Neal had never experienced the electrifying intensity he had with Spencer. Not even with Kate. 

As a precaution they walked past the club and made it to the end of the block before Neal’s tracker flashed amber. “The club should be safe.” Neal grinned. “Do I get that invitation now?”

“You do, indeed. But I should warn you, its not a pretty sight. We’re all keen, and hopefully the dance lessons will start to pay off soon.”

“You take dance lessons? Who’s your partner?”

Spencer smiled. “Are you jealous?”

“I just might be.” The club was still quiet as they made their way through the tables to the bar. Spencer ordered two bottles of water and handed one to Neal.

“I usually dance with Greta, but the lessons are here at the club before it gets too busy, so often we practise with who ever is around at the time. It’s taken me a while to get used to dancing with strangers.” Spencer waved. “The others are already here.” 

Miandra was on Neal immediately, pulling him to the dance floor. She was petite, mixed race, with a flattering close cropped hairstyle. “Don’t worry,” she said. “I know you’re spoken for, but it doesn’t mean we can’t dance.”

“If I knew what to do. Give me the Lambada, a waltz, the salsa, even a tango, but this? This I have never tried.” Neal followed, and they joined the lesson/demonstration corner of the dance floor.

“With a background like that, you’ll pick this up in no time at all.” 

It was fun, that was for sure. Spencer and Greta soon joined them in the learners’ corner, followed shortly after by Reece, Dougie, and another guy Neal didn’t know. Despite the good time, it wasn’t the company Neal wanted. After another ten minutes, Neal swapped out with Greta so he could dance with Spencer. It created a bit of a stir, whistles and cheers abounded, but by the time they wrapped up the lessons for the evening, he and Spencer were getting somewhere. It was exactly what Neal needed, although he was conscious that his anklet was probably on show much of the time. Getting to hold, and touch Spencer, however, was worth any judgemental looks. They were both parched by the time they took a break, and Neal appreciated the bottle of water waiting at their table.

“You are good at that.” Spencer grinned, wiping his brow with a handkerchief from his pocket. 

“You came prepared.” Neal resorted to a paper napkin from the table. “And we were good at that.”

“It’s takes the edge off, don’t you think?” Spencer slipped into the booth, and Neal slid in next to him, their thighs touching. “I never appreciated the appeal of dancing, or any physical activity really, until they brought me here.”

“Have you ever tried ballroom?”

“No. I’ve moved in circles at weddings to be polite, but other than that the only dancing I’ve been subjected to is in the context of bar hoping in DC so Morgan can rub up against something. Not really my thing. But this, this is good fun.”

“Who’s Morgan?” 

“A colleague from the BAU. I didn’t go out with the team very often, but every now and then they wouldn’t take no for an answer.”

“And you danced with Morgan?”

Spencer snorted, almost spitting his water over the table and Neal in the process. “No. Morgan preferred to collect women, with him at the centre. I could never find a rhythm with that type of music, even the songs I liked. Not that there were many of those.”

“Music is a form of art, and therefore as subjective. As is dancing.” Neal slipped his arm along the back of the seat, turning to face Spencer. “I think we move well together. What do you think?” Neal leaned closer.

“I agree, though I’m not sure blatant PDA will be as well received as our dance moves.”

“Does that bother you?” It was a risky challenge, but if Neal didn’t kiss Spencer soon he was going to spontaneously combust, and there where would they be?

Spencer gave that shy smile, and Neal’s heart stuttered. “It doesn’t bother me at all.” And he leaned in to meet Neal’s lips in a slow, tender kiss with a little tongue, but still chaste. “I’m glad you came,” he said as the kiss ended. 

“Me too. It’s been a while.” Neal pushed Spencer’s hair behind his ear. “Since I’ve dated properly.”

“That sounds like an interesting story, though maybe for another time.” Neal laughed at the use of his own words. “Shall we dance?”

Neal leaned in for another quick kiss. “Absolutely.”

They said their goodbyes after another hour and walked back to Neal’s apartment. “You’re welcome to come up,” Neal offered, feeling nervous again about the implications of the suggestion.

Spencer shuffled, looking at his feet. “Maybe next time. But,” he added quickly, “I’d like to see you tomorrow if you’re free.”

“I’m all yours. What would you like to do?”

“After our conversation at dinner I thought the National Gallery?”

“Hmm, I’m not allowed in without an FBI chaperone.”

Spencer slipped his arms around Neal’s waist and pulled him close. “I do technically work for the FBI. I have an ID badge and everything.”

“So you do. And you’re sure you’re happy I’m not just using you to case the joint?”

“I guess that could be a possibility. But as I suggested it, I’ll take the chance.” They kissed a little on the corner until Spencer flagged a passing cab. “I’ll pick you up at noon.”

Neal spent another night alone with his hand and the memory of soft touches and lightening kisses.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mostly dialogue in this chapter.

“I’ve prepared lunch. I thought we could eat before we leave.” Neal stepped aside to allow Spencer into the apartment. The terrace was set with flowers and candles. Classical guitar music played in the background, and Neal had laid out a buffet style lunch, with soft drinks rather than wine as he knew Spencer kept his alcohol consumption to a minimum. 

Spencer took in the scene, his surprise obvious. “This is…” He turned and kissed Neal, a firm press of lips, a nuzzle behind his ear. “Thank you.” He squeezed Neal’s hand. “It’s perfect.”

Neal couldn’t take his eyes off Spencer’s lips. Every bite of food, every smile, every laugh, did strange things to his insides. The concentration needed to keep up with the conversation was immense. As they finished up lunch and sat together sipping Elderflower Pressé and holding hands, it was all Neal could do not to tempt Spencer inside and towards the bed, to unwrap him and explore every inch of his body. But Neal was determined to do this properly, and that meant not rushing. It meant appreciating the long, slow build, the gradual process of uncovering each other’s characteristics and personality. Like the way Spencer exhaled after gushing over a favourite sonnet, the way he forced his hair to stay behind his ear when he was uncomfortable. Everything about him was a revelation, a gift, and Neal wanted to savour every minute detail. 

“So, which gallery would you like to visit?” Neal brought Spencer’s hand to his lips to kiss it. “The National Gallery is in DC after all.” 

Spencer opened his mouth but closed it again. He smiled. “You know, that’s never happened to me before. It goes to show what a distraction you are, if I can forget where I am in your presence.”

“I am happy to continue to be your distraction from all the things you would choose to forget.”

“Then let’s go to the museum instead. Perhaps the Met? You can educate me on the current collections and I will listen with rapt attention to your every word. But first…” He pulled Neal onto his lounger, Neal going willingly into his arms and they made out like teenagers. Spencer’s hand ventured over Neal’s crotch stroking his hard length with nimble fingers and Neal groaned into the kiss but pulled back. 

“If we are going to go anywhere this afternoon, we should, uh…”

Spencer blushed. “Yes, sorry. I didn’t mean to be forward. I…I’ve never been forward in my entire life.”

“It’s fine, really, I just…I won’t be able to stop, and I really want to spend time with you outside of the apartment as well as in bed.”

“Then let’s do that.” Neither of them made an attempt to move and they both laughed. 

“Okay, okay,” Neal said, finding his feet and pulling Spencer off the chair. “Time to go. You go first so I’m not tempted to redirect you to the couch, or the bed.”

Spencer smiled and kissed Neal’s cheek. “Something to look forward to another time.”

 

A couple of hours into their tour, standing before a pastel Degas, ‘Three Dancers Preparing for Class’, Neal was regaling Spencer with the story of the fake Degas he and Peter had recovered from an arms dealer—without the finer detail that he was the forger in question—when they both startled at a familiar voice. Peter.

“Neal, fancy bumping in to you, here of all places.” They both turned to see Peter and a sheepish Elizabeth beside him.

“Let me guess,” Neal said. “You just happened to be visiting the museum.”

“It’s not as though I would expect you to be here. You know it’s off limits without a chaperone.” Peter was grinning, and Neal wanted to punch him.

“He has a chaperone.” Spencer’s voice was quiet but firm. “Does it specify anywhere that the chaperone has to be you, Agent Burke?”

“That’s not the point…”

“Oh, but it is. I am an FBI Agent, after all, and therefore Neal is breaking no rules being here without you.”

Neal took a moment to appreciate Spencer’s mind, and the frustrated look on Peter’s face. 

“I’m Elizabeth.” She stepped in front of Peter and held her hand out to Spencer. “You must be Spencer. I’ve heard a lot about you from my husband.”

Spencer smiled warmly but didn’t shake Elizabeth’s hand. He gave a small wave instead. “It’s lovely to meet you. Do you like art?”

“Oh, you have no idea.” The two of them walked off, discussing the exhibits and leaving Neal with Peter. 

“You shouldn’t be here, Neal.”

“It’s you who shouldn’t be here. You pulled my tracking data, didn’t you? I’m on a date, Peter. And I have a legitimate chaperone.”

“I didn’t know that, and I’m not sure he counts.”

“Not sure he counts?”

“Not when you’re sleeping with him, no.”

“News flash, Agent Burke, we haven’t gotten there yet, but thanks for bringing that up in a public place with him standing ten feet away.”

“I don’t like this, Neal. I don’t like it at all. You’re compromising both your situations.”

“Well, you need to get over it because I really like this guy. Like seriously like him.” They both looked over at Spencer and Elizabeth laughing. “He’s good for me, Peter. What better to keep me on the straight and narrow than an FBI boyfriend?”

“You’re at the boyfriend stage already?”

“I hope so or I am in big trouble.”

 

They didn’t shake the Burkes even after leaving the museum a few hours later. Instead they all ended up at a restaurant despite Elizabeth’s many hints for them to leave, and Neal’s heavier handed suggestions. Awkward moments abounded, and Neal was surprised Spencer didn’t just up and walk out. Neal allowed Peter to pay for dinner after Elizabeth said it was the least they could do after hijacking their date, but it didn’t end there. Peter insisted on sharing a cab back to June’s and then invited himself in for a glass of wine. 

“It’s a hell of a place, isn’t it?” Neal heard Peter say to Spencer. He didn’t hear Spencer’s reply over Elizabeth. 

“I’m so sorry, Neal. You know how protective he is of you.”

“Over what? The guy is an FBI Agent. How much safer could I be?”

She shrugged. “Well, don’t you worry. I’m going to whisk him out of here as soon as I finish this glass.” She knocked back the last of her wine and winked at him. “Peter, honey, it’s time to go.”

“The night’s still young,” he called back from the terrace. She marched through the open doors and put her hands on her hips. 

“Exactly. And I want you at home. Now.” Peter started to say something. “I said, now.” Peter’s head dropped, and he placed his glass on the table. “It was lovely to meet you Spencer. Enjoy the rest of your evening.” She kissed Neal’s cheek and all but dragged Peter out of the apartment.

Neal joined Spencer outside, looking over the city. “I thought they’d never leave.”

“Does he always keep such a tight control over you?”

“Pretty much.” He took Spencer’s glass and placed it on the table with his own. “Thankfully, as long as I’m here, he’s tends to leave me alone.” He slipped his arms around Spencer’s waist and pulled him in close. 

Spencer smiled, and Neal’s breath caught in his chest. “It’s a good thing we won’t be going anywhere else this evening.” The kiss was long and sweet, full of promise with an edge of something unknown yet tantalizing. 

“Maybe we should take this inside?” Neal tried not to sound too hopeful but knew he failed miserably at Spencer’s light chuckle.

“What a wonderful idea.”

Unwrapping Spencer was like playing pass the parcel as a kid—so many layers. Neal traced the centre line of Spencer’s chest with a finger until it tucked under the waistband of his pants and paused. After a small nod from Spencer, Neal continued, unbuttoning and unzipping until he could slip his hand inside and over the hardness of Spencer’s sizeable cock. They rocked together as Spencer reciprocated, accompanied by deep kisses. Neal desperately wanted Spencer naked, but at the same time he couldn’t stop the motion, hands and bodies moving together towards the ultimate goal, a slow burn of passion until the final wave caught Neal out and he toppled over the edge coating Spencer’s hand and stomach. With a few more strokes, Spencer followed into Neal’s hand and they lay together, breathing settling, small tender kisses shared. 

“Why does sex have to be so messy?” Spencer said, finally, removing his hand and reaching for his undershirt. He wiped his hand and passed it to Neal, who did the same before mopping up between them.

“Hopefully it’s still worth it though, right?” The uncertainty in Neal’s voice shocked even him.

“Very much worth it.” Spencer leaned in to kiss Neal again. 

“Will you stay?” The unspoken please echoed around the apartment and Neal felt himself flush with embarrassment.

“Yes.” Spencer nuzzled against Neal’s neck, kissing over his shoulder and back to his ear. “Yes, yes, and yes.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A short saucy aside. Explicit in nature, so be warned. Suggestions of previous abuse/non-con from Neal's past so beware of potential triggers. This chapter can be skipped without losing anything from the overall storyline.
> 
> Different tense to the rest of the storyline to capture extra depth.

Neal peppers Spencer’s face and chest with butterfly kisses, strokes firm hands over his long limbs and smiles into his creamy soft skin as he stirs. When it looks as though Spencer is going to fall back to sleep, Neal slides down his body and licks, and kisses over Spencer’s cock. That earns him a groan and a sleepy smile.  
“I’ve made breakfast.” Neal presses the words into Spencer’s skin. 

“Mmm, can it wait a minute or two?” Spencer pulls Neal up and kisses him deep and hard. “Or three,” he says, breathless and needy. 

They rock together, and Neal can’t remember a time he’s been so horny every moment of the day and night. He peels away from Spencer’s grip to dip into the bedside table, breakfast forgotten, and retrieves lube and a condom. That gets Spencer’s attention, and he props himself up onto his elbows. “Too soon?” Neal asks, feeling bashful.

“Not at all, I just…it’s…”

No more words follow and Neal hesitates. “I want you, Spencer. I want you inside me.” Spencer nods once, settling back into the pillows, Neal’s favourite shy smile playing around the edges of his mouth, and Neal leans in, kissing slow and steady until Spencer rolls them over. Neal let’s his thighs fall open to give Spencer room. He kneels between them and sits back on his haunches. 

“You are beautiful.” Spencer blushes at his admission.

“You’re pretty beautiful yourself.”

“Not like you. All taught, defined muscle.” He drags his hands over Neal’s chest and abs, over his neatly trimmed pubes to his cock. “And so…well presented.” They both chuckle. Spencer is ‘au naturale’, but Neal doesn’t mind bar the odd stray hair in his teeth when he sucks Spencer down.

“You are svelte, wiry, firm.” Neal smiles. “Just the way I like it.” He reaches up to touch Spencer’s cheek. “Killer bone structure. You could model.”

They kiss, working themselves up to the point where Spencer reaches for the lube, coats his fingers and slips his hand beneath him to rub over Neal’s hole before pressing in. It’s been a long time since Neal’s done this, willingly at least, but he doesn’t like to think of those early months in prison before he figured out who to bribe for protection, the days he was left floundering, waiting for Peter to meet with him after he’d been returned to a higher security wing with more dangerous criminals. He moans as Spencer finds that spot, reminds him how good this can be with someone who cares. These are the memories he wants to hold on to, to erase everything that came before. 

Spencer prepares him with slow, tender hands, interspersed with kisses, and Neal opens to him. The first push of Spencer’s cock has Neal stiffening. It’s big. Long, yes, but it’s the girth that has him tensing. “Should I stop?” Whispered against Neal’s ear.

“No, no, please…” He takes a breath, relaxes as Spencer returns three fingers, more lube, and then it’s there again, that huge cock threatening to split him in half but he’s ready. 

The first give of muscle stings, and Neal grips Spencer’s shoulder, fingers digging in enough to leave bruises. It’s easier after that, the discomfort giving way to sharp zings of pleasure, edged with the good kind of pain. Neal’s never been so full, at least not pleasantly, and he revels in the sensations rippling through his body. He’s moaning shamelessly now, as Spencer starts to rock into him, their bodies moving naturally together as though they had been at this for years. It’s more evidence to Neal that Spencer just might be the one. His all, his everything. His forever. 

He rolls them, sitting back so that Spencer slips deeper inside and they both shudder and pause. Spencer’s face, so expressive and open spurs Neal back into movement. So much more inside, and every grind of his hips against Spencer’s flashes pleasure through his insides to erupt out of his mouth in sounds he didn’t know he could make. Spencer isn’t quiet either, and Neal’s thankful for the extra floor between his room and June’s. 

He moves his hands from Spencer’s shoulders, and rests back, propping himself on Spencer’s thighs, taking up a small circular rhythm that drives them both onward and upward, his cock, hard and heavy, bouncing against his stomach. Spencer pulls himself into a sitting position, wrapping his arms around Neal’s body, pressing his face into Neal’s chest, and he latches over a nipple and sucks hard, nibbles, and licks, and Neal has to stop…catch his breath.

They both snap their head to the door as it opens. 

“Oh, god.” Mozzie. “Would it kill you to lock the door, Neal?” He’s facing the wall, eyes to the ceiling. “I can never un-see that.” Neal’s brain is too blissed out to respond but Spencer laughs, a light, happy sound. “Call me later.” And Mozzie is out of the door. 

Feather light touches over his back and ass convince Neal to move again, and he lays them back against the bed, staying close to Spencer’s chest so they can kiss. Neal’s close, without having touched his cock, and he can feel Spencer is almost there too. 

“Wait.” Spencer sounds wrecked, his voice raw and open. Neal pauses, pulls back a little to meet Spencer’s eyes. “I want you to…I want to swap.”

“We could do that next time?”

“No, now, please…just in case…” The unfinished thought sobers Neal enough to comply with the request. 

They reorder themselves. Spencer throws away his condom and Neal suits himself up, taking the lube and slicking his fingers. He takes his time opening Spencer up before pressing into the tight heat of his body. “Oh, god, I’m not going to last long like this.”

“It’s okay.” Spencer encourages movement again, and Neal has to appreciate how thoroughly out of his depth he is with the feeling every ounce of Spencer gives him. Creates in him. “Neal, come on, it’s okay, I’m not made of glass.”

Neal takes it as instruction to give it all he has. He fucks Spencer hard and fast, catching the sounds from his lips, moving into the arching of his hips until Spencer cries out and comes between them, clenching around Neal’s cock as he rides him through his orgasm on into his own. Breathless and slick with sweat, Neal pulls out and ties off the condom, throwing it into the waste basket beside the bed. Spencer finds his undershirt, a little crusty from the night before and mops up the mess. He grins at Neal. 

“Am I too late for breakfast?”

Neal laughs. “The eggs maybe cold by now. I’ll brew some fresh coffee.” He stretches out next to Spencer. “In a minute or two.” They tangle their limbs together. “You’ve worn me out.”

“Not too much, I hope. We have all day, after all.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a passionate love-making session (for those of you who chose to skip the last chapter), Neal and Spencer take a moment to share life stories and potential futures.

They shared a single lounger, naked on the terrace facing each other, feeding one another breakfast. Another simple pleasure Neal was thankful for. The warm mid-morning sun was countered by a light breeze. His body was pliant, sated, but his mind was buzzing. He took a mouthful of fresh coffee and watched Spencer’s long, slender fingers reach and snag a small cluster of grapes. “Can I ask you a personal question?” 

Spencer gave a slow, shy smile. “Ask anything. I promise you a truthful answer.”

Neal certainly didn’t doubt that. “Earlier…you said ‘just in case’…as though we may not get another chance.” Spencer’s gaze dropped to the plate of food between them. “Are you…” Neal sighed. “Is this ending already?”

Spencer’s gaze flashed back to Neal’s. “No, god, no. I…” He plucked a grape from the cluster and turned it over in his fingers. “It’s maybe a little soon for the conversation about ‘ex’s’, but as I promised you a truthful answer…” the small smile he gave this time was strained. “My last girlfriend, if you could call her that…”

“Did you call her that?”

“Yes. But…”

“Then that’s what she was.”

Spencer nodded. “It wasn’t a conventional relationship.” He went on to explain how it began, with correspondence in relation to genetics, and continued past the advice into something…more. Of stalkers and crazy phone rituals, and not being able to meet. At one point, Neal thought Spencer would break open, the pain on his face was so apparent. An almost date, where they’d come so close, the madness of another vengeful psychopath, a kidnapping… “The first time I saw her, god she was so beautiful…she was tied to a chair opposite me, and I just wanted to reach out…” By this point, Neal realised there wouldn’t be a happy ending to this love story. “She was killed right in front of me. I tried everything, offered to die in her place, and I would have. Happily. Just to know she was safe.” 

“One of those things you would choose to forget.”

A single tear rolled down his cheek, and Neal reached over to wipe it away. Spencer caught his hand, and kissed his palm, holding it for a moment before letting is fall away. “I remember every single word we said to each other and yet I didn’t even get a chance to hold her, to touch her living body.” A momentary pause. “All this happened four months, three weeks, and four days ago, and the memory is as fresh now as though it just happened. And it will be that way forever, never fading with time.” A constricted breath. “I loved her so much.”

“I am so, so, sorry. I shouldn’t have asked.”

“No,” Spencer smiled, wiping his face of another tear, “it’s okay. It’s good to talk about it. About her. But, anyway…” he seemed to shake off the desperate sadness. “It’s why I’m here. In New York, as well as in your bed, I guess…”

Neal’s heart sank. He was a rebound from a dead girlfriend, a love no longer possible. “I’m happy to be a distraction,” was all he could say.

Spencer looked at him, really looked, deep inside. “You misunderstand me,” he said, reaching out to place a hand on Neal’s thigh. “You are so much more than a distraction. You are…” He smiled. “I promised myself I would never miss another opportunity to be with...someone significant. To explore all possibilities in life, not to hide behind books and work. Not to waste time.”

“A fresh start.”

“Yes, but it’s been more than that.” He turned the grape in nimble fingers a few more times inspecting it. “I’ve never fit in, anywhere. My life story to date would definitely be categorised in literature as a tragedy. I won’t bore you with the details, but the highlights—or lowlights—are probably relevant. My dad left when I was little. I always thought it was because of me, because I was different, so I grew up as an only child to a single, paranoid schizophrenic mother, who I committed to a mental hospital as soon as I turned eighteen. It could have been worse, but it still wasn’t…good. I brought myself up, and cared for her. I later found out my father left us because my mother had witnessed the murder of a local paedophile who had killed a boy in the neighbourhood, and apparently had his sights on me.” Spencer took a breath. “I graduated high school when I was twelve. You can’t imagine how cruel teenagers can be. I was beaten, practically on a daily basis and…let’s just say I got used to being naked in public.” 

Neal bit back the bile rising in his throat. What was there to say to any of it? After asking the question, he figured the least he could do was give Spencer the space to give the answer in the way he needed to. 

“I went on to college, with much of the same. I had a first girlfriend at sixteen, I was on my second degree, she her first as an early entrant. We started off as study partners,” he chuffed a laugh, “I guess that at least was kind of normal. A first boyfriend at eighteen, we went from college to Quantico together where it ended abruptly. Another boyfriend there, but he was afraid people would find out. He left to become a musician in New Orleans.” And finally a genuine smile. “I never really bothered again, after that. Joined the BAU, where, although the team were like family, I was still on the outside, the weird one nobody ever wanted to share a room with, and they never got me, not once. They teased constantly about how I’d always be alone if I didn’t conform, treated me like a child. It makes them sound awful, and they really aren’t, but it’s how it’s always been…” He looked directly at Neal. “Until now.” He grasped Neal’s hand. “For the first time in my life, I belong. You, the team, I feel normal. All the things others have tolerated about me my entire life, you celebrate.”

Neal smiled. Kissed Spencer’s hand. “I do celebrate it. Everything about you, in fact.” 

“I’ve always thought, been made to think I’m off-kilter. For years I’ve thought I was borderline schizophrenic, inherited from my mother. Do you know how many of the profiles we gave at the BAU could have been me? But now…”

“Now?”

“Now I think I was just in the wrong place, with the wrong people. It throws a different light on much of my previous research, actually.” 

Neal allowed the silence to stretch on, to make sure Spencer was done. When Spencer popped the grape into his mouth, Neal took it as a sign to speak. “So, you’ve not dated since Quantico?”

“A few times. I had a fling with an actress. We kind of bonded when the team apprehended her stalker.”

“Anyone I would have heard of?”

“Lila Archer? It didn’t last long. We were both always too busy.”

“Oh, wow. She is…very nice.” They both laughed. A little light after a dark story.

“A couple of other dates, here and there. I have had some personal challenges, after I was kidnapped by a suspect and drugged repeatedly. That, along with never fitting in anywhere…well, I’ve only been truly comfortable behind my own front door with copious reading materials for company. I figured it was safer to just leave it that way. Until Maeve…until you.” Spencer brushed imaginary crumbs off the lounger in front of him. “That’s enough of my sob story. How about you?”

Neal took a deep breath. “Well, I would like to say my life story was a comedy rather than a tragedy, but I guess it depends where it ends.” Neal watched another grape disappear between Spencer’s lips. “I’m the son of a crooked cop, who I thought died as a hero when I was three. I grew up in witness protection. My mother suffered from mental illness, and I had to adapt to survive. My first forgery was a bus pass, so I wouldn’t be late for school.” Oh, how Neal was addicted to that smile. “I was brought up by my father’s ex-partner, Ellen, who was with us. She was murdered a few years ago. Because I got back in touch with her. Uh, first serious boyfriend was the quarterback in high school. After we had sex a couple of times he started dating the head cheer leader and just cut me off without another word. I ran away at eighteen, after finding out about my dad, did things I’m not proud of to survive.”

“We do what we have to.”

“Don’t get me wrong, there are plenty of things I’ve done, which the law doesn’t approve of, that I am extremely proud of.” Spencer looked like he was going to say something but changed his mind. “And about that time, I realised my looks and my charm could open doors. Worked my way up to forging bonds, and decided it was time to head to the city of dreams where I was taken under the very capable wing of my dear friend Mozzie.”

“It’s good you found each other so soon.”

“Yeah, Peter was already on to me by that point. I don’t think I’d have avoided arrest for so long without Moz. He shaped me, I suppose. Recognised a kindred spirit and filed off the rough edges. He proposed a long-con on a financial giant, Vincent Adler.”

“The ponzi scheme guy?”

“One and the same. And he is the one who made me the man I am today. I started working for him, and he mentored me, showed me how to dress, how to blend in elite circles.”

“Relationships?”

“I didn’t have time for any of that until I met Kate. She also worked for Adler, as an art consultant. I was in love from the very first moment I saw her, but she was dating someone else, so…” Neal shrugged. “I fell in to being Adler’s play thing. All hush-hush of course.” Neal laughed. “Wow, you know I’ve never told anyone that. Not Kate, not Peter. Not even Mozzie.”

Spencer took Neal’s hand and led him inside to the bed, where he pulled Neal against his chest in a supportive embrace. “What happened next?”

“Kate chose me. Adler wasn’t happy I stopped sleeping with him, but I fall deep fast, and I don’t cheat. Ever. And then Adler was gone. With everything. Both of us had invested heavily with him and we had nothing.”

“Did she know why you were really working for Adler?”

“I told her. Told her we could still have the life we wanted. And we did. We worked together on jobs. She was a fast learner. And life was great, so great.”

“I sense the but is approaching.”

“Peter was closing in, I…made a few mistakes with her, and she left. Disappeared. I went off the rails a bit after that. Too many jobs too quickly, but I was making a name for myself. It also pushed me to the top of Peter’s priority list. I had a few flings, here and there, but my heart was still Kate’s. I missed her so much sometimes I was physically sick. Sex became part of the job, part of the con to get me what I wanted and where I needed to be. Basically, I was numb inside without her. Just going through the motions.” Neal was glad he didn’t get to relive those moments in as much detail as Spencer had to. “Peter found her. Used her as bait to lure me out. I knew I was walking into a trap, but it was worth it see her again, to tell her how much I loved her. I was arrested. Only got four years because the bond forgery was the only thing they could prove. She came to see me every week until…” He took a laboured breath, emotion clogging his throat. “I had six months left to go and she came to say goodbye. I knew she was in trouble, so I broke out to find her, but I was too late, she’d vanished again. Peter put me away again, but I convinced him to release me on a tracker as a consultant. I still can’t believe I got a two mile radius. But Peter admits he liked me, even back then.”

“You’re happy with the deal you have?”

“Very. Some consultants go back to jail for the weekends, and two miles in New York is like ten anywhere else. Anyway, I used my spare time to search for Kate, and I found her caught up in a complicated conspiracy with another FBI agent. We bartered our freedom, new identities, and I was at the airport about to board the jet…I could see her, almost close enough to touch, the first time in four years. I turned away for a minute to say goodbye to Peter and the plane… She was killed instantly when the jet exploded in a fire ball.”

“She was killed in front of you.” Spencer squeezed him tight. “So much of our story is similar. I’m sorry you had to see that.”

“Well, at least I have memories of the years we spent together.”

“Even so. Nobody should have to experience what we have.”

“I went back to work with Peter. Had a fling with an old friend. Fell in love again, with Sarah, who had testified against me at my trial. She left when she realised who I was, when she couldn’t kid herself anymore.” Neal looked up, so he could gage Spencer’s reaction. “Are you going to do that too?”

“I already know who you are and I see no reason, now or in the future why that would make me leave. What about you, when you realise this is all I am, when the novelty of my high I.Q. wears off, will you leave?”

“You are in no way a novelty, Spencer. You are a revelation to be cherished into eternity.” Spencer laughed. “Too soppy?”

“Not if that’s how you truly feel.”

“It is.” They kissed a little. Supportive, energising. “Adler turned up again. Kidnapped me and Peter, my friend Alex, to get his hands on a Nazi sub filled with priceless treasure.”

“I remember reading about that in the papers.”

“Turned out he was the one who had Kate killed. I wonder whether it was as much from jealousy, to get back at me for stopping our affair, as it was about the treasure. But, I haven’t really bothered with relationships, or even sex to be honest, since Sarah. We got back together as casual friends with benefits, but she moved to London a few months ago.”

“And then there was me?”

“That first morning in the elevator, I knew you were something different. Something special. I begged Peter to let me into that conference room when you turned up in White Collar.”

“I knew you were watching me. It was nice…to have your attention.”

“And now?”

Spencer kissed him deeply. “Even better.”

“Spencer, I need to be completely honest with you. I need you to see who I am.”

“I’ve told you, I know who you are.”

“All of me. To say I’m reformed would be a stretch, and not a small one. You’re an FBI agent, and I would give it all up for you, but there are things I’ve done, things I still do, that I could be prosecuted for and still do serious time. Even when working cases I often break the law for Peter.”

“In what way?”

“Breaking and entering, obtaining information through hacking or stealing.”

“And Peter knows this.”

“Of course, but he isn’t happy about it.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that.”

Neal sat up to face Spencer. “What do you mean?”

“Without you breaking the law your success rate wouldn’t be as high as it is.”

“Peter always says he would have got there without my help, that I only speed up the process.”

“That’s what he needs you to think, to stay loyal.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I asked you earlier if you were happy with your deal because I don’t think it’s a good enough one for the work you put in.”

“I don’t know what to say.”

“Agent Burke is happy for you to continue to break the law for him to close cases because it keeps you beholden to him. He let’s you get away with little things, or think you are getting away with little things to keep you from looking too closely at that deal of yours.”

“Peter wouldn’t…” But Neal’s words ran out, because maybe Peter would. 

“The FBI isn’t as clean cut as you think, Neal. As an agency it often has to recruit specialist knowledge from the criminal population. You can’t teach that kind of life experience in a classroom at Quantico.” Spencer tucked his hair behind his ear, a sure sign he was being serious. “I’ve only ever worked for the FBI, and you are not the only criminal in my social network.”

“I’m not.”

“Garcia, the tech analyst at the BAU in DC, was given an ultimatum when she was arrested for hacking into government servers. Work for the FBI or go to prison for a very, very, long time. And she’s not the only one I’ve met over the years. Two of my current team, that I know of, joined the FBI under similar circumstances. Garcia continues to break the law on a regular basis, hacking, and finding information that puts away psychotic criminals. I wouldn’t say it is technically with the Bureau’s blessing, but it is common knowledge.”

“Wow. That’s…”

“I have broken the law, on occasion. Nothing serious, but that’s not the point with law breaking. You’ve either done it, or you haven’t. I had a full scholarship for my first two degrees, but as soon as I turned eighteen, I paid for much of my schooling by counting cards, which although isn’t actually illegal, is frowned upon.” Spencer huffed. “What I’m trying to say is, although the law is very black and white, it is also socially subjective. For example, it will never be acceptable to murder someone, but there are very few people who haven’t skipped a red light, or crossed the road without looking, even if it wasn’t a conscious decision at the time. Helped themselves to the stationary closet at work.”

“I should have met you sooner.”

“You know I could help you, legally, to obtain a better deal.”

“In what way?”

“Get rid of that anklet. Get you a proper contract of employment as a civilian consultant. If that’s what you wanted of course. You could just take your freedom and leave.”

Neal shook his head. “I like what I do. I like working with Peter. And now there’s you. I don’t want to leave. But I can’t see me not using the methods I do at the moment to get results.”

“Why would you have to? You still wouldn’t be a field agent. They are the only ones who really shouldn’t cross the lines of the law without the Bureau’s knowledge. Undercover work is exempted, of course. But even then, one of the agents I used to work with killed a suspect in cold blood because we didn’t have enough evidence to prosecute. Set it up as self-defence, mind you, but we all knew she’d blown the operation, so she could exact her personal revenge for his crimes.” He shrugged. “It’s one of the downsides to being a profiler. People’s hidden motivations are sometimes all too clear. She isn’t an agent any more, but that was by her own choice. She could have stayed.”

“Hmm, the last time they looked at releasing me early, I almost ended up under contract for DC Art Crimes indefinitely. And I didn’t ask for that review, it was suggested as reward for services rendered.”

“Well, you didn’t have me and my team on your side back then. But, you should think about it. And we should either get dressed and get on with our day, or…” Spencer rolled them over and straddled Neal’s thighs, sliding his hands over Neal’s chest and back down to rest at his hips.

“I chose the or.” And he pulled Spencer into a slow, sloppy, Sunday kiss.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some info on FBI ranks:  
> SSA - Senior Special Agent - can also be Supervisory Special Agent (which is above Senior SA)  
> ASAC - Assistant Special Agent in Charge (of a division) - Peter is an ASAC by the end of the series, it's the promotion he gets after taking down Pratt. Amanda Calloway was an ASAC when she replaced Hughes.  
> SAC - Special Agent in Charge (of a division) - Hughes was the SAC. It is the last rung of the ladder for Agents before they become 'management'. 
> 
> It is possible to skip ranks with exigent circumstances. For example, Peter was an ASAC, but his move to Washington would have made him a Deputy Assistant Director, which is the first rank in management.  
> To give a further idea, Strauss, from Criminal Minds was an Assistant Director. The BAU all had elevated ranking because it is an elite unit working across the FBI so the 'positions' are slightly different. Spencer's new team is also an elite unit. 
> 
> Hope this helps to unravel what is going on here....

Spencer grimaced at the mouthful of coffee and put it down to add another couple of sugars. Hopefully it would be palatable afterwards. He should have thought to stop on his way in to work. The office was still quiet, he had time to go out now, but he was waiting for Neal. After spending the previous day in bed having the best sex and even better conversation, Spencer had made it home to an empty apartment only to wish he had stayed at Neal’s. That in itself was unusual enough to snag his attention. His default setting until now had been alone time. With previous lovers that hadn’t changed. But with Neal…it was all Spencer could do not to turn right around and go back to Neal’s place after taking in the silence behind his own front door. 

Sure, he had craved more time with Maeve. Had tried to push for extra calls, anything more she would give him, but to crave another person’s presence in the way he yearned to be with Neal. It had never happened. He looked up as someone cleared their throat. Not Neal.

“Spencer.”

“Agent Burke.”

“Good weekend?”

“Splendid, thank you. It was lovely to meet Elizabeth.”

Peter stood with his hands on his hips, and a serious frown on his face. He huffed. “There’s no easy way to say this, so I’m just going to come out and say it.” Spencer waited. “You should stay away from Neal.”

“And why is that, exactly?”

“He’s a criminal informant. This could ruin your career.”

“He’s on the books as a civilian consultant, I checked, so technically…”

“He’s unpredictable.”

Spencer grinned. “Mmm, I know.”

“Look, Neal is suspected in a number of other crimes, crimes he can still be held accountable for if you come across them in your cold case files.” Now, that, was sobering. He hadn’t considered that possibility. “You should drop it now before…”

“Before what?”

“Before one of you gets hurt.”

“I think it’s too late for that Agent Burke. Stopping now would hurt both of us, and although I appreciate your concern, though I’m not sure whether it’s for us, or yourself, Neal is a grown man and so am I. If we want to have sex I don’t see what business it is of yours. No laws, and no rules are being broken.”

“For goodness sake, Spencer. If you don’t call time on this…”

“I’m not a child. In fact, I actually out rank you, so choose your next words carefully.”

Peter gave him a calculating look. “Greta runs your team.”

“She does, and she’s very good at it. I, however, am the SAC with ultimate responsibility for our work.” Peter’s jaw dropped. “I was promoted from SSA with the move from DC, although I still prefer to use Dr. as my title. It’s an unusual team, the first of its kind, so we prefer not to label ourselves with the familiar trappings of rank. As we report directly to the management the lead is a SAC position. It stands to reason I would be the lead agent with my previous hands on experience within one of the Bureau's few other elite teams. The rest of the team are analysts, after all, not field agents.” He took a breath, noting Peter’s pinched features. “So, if there is nothing else?” Peter gave an aborted shake of his head just as Neal came up behind him. Office politics, it seemed, was good for some things.

“Everything okay?” Neal looked wary, and rightly so. But as pissed as Peter was, Spencer was confident he wouldn’t take it out on Neal. For long. 

Neal and Peter were both surprised when Spencer greeted Neal with a kiss. “Morning, gorgeous,” he said, channelling his inner Morgan.

Neal flashed a smile. “And a good morning to you, beautiful.”

Spencer slipped his arm around Neal’s waist and pulled him against his side. “You’ll be pleased to hear I’ve ordered you a new coffee machine. It should be delivered this afternoon. I can’t promise it will be as good as the local barista, but it will be better than this.”

“Oh, wow.” Neal kissed his cheek. “For me?”

“For the department.” He kissed Neal on the lips before stepping away. It shouldn’t feel so good baiting Peter, but he couldn’t help it. He was tired of being treated like a child. “Okay, I have to get to work.” He turned to Peter. “Don’t worry, Agent Burke, we should be finished here this week.” And hopefully without running into any cases that could be attributed to Neal’s handiwork. Neal had talked about many of his exploits during the course of their day in bed together between power naps, snacks, and phenomenal sex. With any luck, Spencer would spot any possibles as soon as he opened the file and decide not to work them.

“What’s next?” Neal asked.

“Back to our own offices for a few weeks. Then we’ll see.” He kissed Neal one last time, because he could. “I’ll see you tonight?”

Neal nodded. As Spencer walked away he heard Peter. “Why didn’t you tell me he was SAC for his team?”

“What? No. No, I thought…Greta is the boss, or at least that’s what they told me.” Oops, maybe Spencer would have some explaining to do later. He didn’t look back to see if Neal was pissed with him. The annoyance in Peter’s tone was enough to bolster his mood for the day. There was a sliver of guilt for taking his irritation at never being taken seriously out on Peter. It wasn’t really his fault. But rule number two for his new job—standing up for himself in situations exactly like these. The new Spencer Reid was rocking it.

 

Hour after hour of pouring over details with the team, and they were close to cracking a ten-year-old loan scandal. Not the most exciting, but still a good win for them and White Collar. The commotion in the bull pen caught Spencer’s attention and he looked up to see a crowd gathered. The new coffee machine. “You are in for a treat,” he said to the team. “I put a rush order in this morning for a new coffee machine. I have no idea how they have kept the department running with the sludge they’ve been brewing.”

“Oh, you are an amazing creature, Spencer.” Greta was first out of the door.

Spencer followed his team, arriving last and standing back to watch with everyone else as the delivery guy finished the installation and set the first pots to brew. 

“And you say we have you to thank for this, Caffrey?” Spencer recognized the woman as Diana Berrigan. 

“So I’ve been told.” Neal looked around. “Ah, here’s our benefactor now.” He reached for Spencer and pulled him to the front of the crowd. “Diana, this is Dr. Spencer Reid. I impressed his team so much with my work last week, they have gifted us with this thing of beauty.” The group gathered cheered and Spencer blushed. 

Diana nodded to Spencer and turned back to Neal. “We’ll have to convince Peter to pimp you out more often, Caffrey. Maybe next time we’ll get an espresso machine.”

“Or a microwave,” Jones added. Everyone laughed except Spencer and Peter, who eyed each other cautiously. “Look at this thing,” Jones said. “Two pots of regular and a pot of decaf on the go at all times, and warm milk for cappuccino and chocolate. You must be good, that’s all I’m saying. Real good.”

Neal pushed to the front of the queue and poured a cup of regular despite the protests. “Hey, hey, hey,” he said, grabbing a handful of sugar packets. I think Dr. Reid should have the first offering.” He walked over to Spencer and handed him the mug. “Here you go, beautiful.” 

Spencer took the coffee and leaned in to kiss Neal chastely on the lips. “Thank you, sweetness.”

“Sweetness.” Jones again. “Nobody ever calls me sweetness when I bring them coffee.”

“Maybe you should try harder,” Neal teased. 

Jones flashed a smile in Greta’s direction. “Maybe I should.”

Spencer added his sugar and sipped his coffee while Neal got himself a cup. It was good. Very good. Neal slipped an arm around Spencer’s waist as they chatted with Diana and Jones about coffee regions and flavours. The group lingered around the new machine until Hughes appeared at his office door.

“That’s enough,” he said. “It’s just coffee.”

“Never just coffee,” Neal said quietly. He kissed Spencer’s cheek. “I should get back to it.”

Spencer nodded and turned back to the conference room. Hughes was still outside his office. “Spencer, a minute?” Neal patted him on the shoulder as he headed for the stairs. Maybe he should have given Hughes the heads up about the coffee machine. 

He entered Hughes office and closed the door. “Is there a problem, sir?”

“Come now, Spencer. We both know you don’t need to call me sir.”

“I like to show respect when it’s deserved, sir.”

“I appreciate that, but Reece is fine.”

Spencer nodded. “So, what can I do for you?”

“I wanted to thank you, for exemplary work. Your team has cleared some sticky cases for us in a very short time.”

“It’s what we do.”

“Indeed.” Hughes sat down and gestured to the chair opposite. 

“And to be honest your team’s standard of reporting is excellent. Clear, precise, a pleasure to work with. It makes our life much easier.”

“That is very good to hear.” Hughes tapped his desk. “I also wanted to apologise for Peter.”

“Oh?”

“He told me this morning he invited himself on a date you had with Caffrey at the weekend.”

“Ah, that.” Spencer blushed. 

“I’ve told him in no uncertain terms to back off and leave you two to…whatever evolves. I have his assurances you’ve seen the last of his interference in the matter.”

“Really?”

“You sound surprised.”

“That would be because Peter approached me just this morning and told me to stay away from Neal, and not to see him again.”

“Well, hopefully that was before we had our chat. But if he does say anything else along those lines, I’d like to hear about it.”

“Okay.”

“It’s nothing to do with your sexuality, Spencer, I hope you realise that. He’s just very…”

“Protective of Neal. I’ve noticed.”

“Well, if you need anything, you let us know.”

“Thank you, Reece.” He stood to leave. 

“And Spencer…” Spencer paused half way to the door and turned back to face him. “No more PDA in the office. There’s a reason dating within teams isn’t allowed. It’s a distraction. For everyone. That aside, my personal advice is to keep your private life…more private.”

Spencer’s shoulders slumped. So much for not being about sexuality. “I understand.”

“Do you?” He met Hughes’ gaze. “What I mean to say is, it doesn’t matter that people know who you are with, just that the details—the natural ups and downs of any relationship—remain behind closed doors.” Hughes sighed. “When people get used to seeing your private interactions, they notice when things change, which feeds the gossip pool.”

“Got it. And thank you. I don’t have much experience. Dating within the Bureau,” he added as an afterthought. Especially when the team at the BAU had assumed he was practically virginal. Though so far that hadn’t seemed to be the case here.

“Okay. Well, your team is already proving to be a great asset. I wish you the best of luck.”

Spencer was sweating by the time he got back to the conference room. “What did the boss man want?” Dougie asked as soon as he walked through the door. 

“To say well done and thank you for our great work.” The team cheered. “And no more kissing Neal in the office.” They all laughed, and Spencer joined them. He couldn’t wait to tell Garcia he’d been told off for PDA. Well, she just wouldn’t believe him.


	9. Chapter 9

It was tantamount to the day he was having that Spencer needed to enlist the help of Agent Peter Burke to close the last case his team were working on for White Collar. He would have asked Hughes for a couple of random agents, as he had the previous week, but this particular foray into the field could use Neal’s ample charms. To get to Neal—for case work, anyway—you had to go through Peter. 

After their Monday morning dick waving (as Morgan would have called it), he and Peter had avoided any direct contact and that seemed to be working for them. Neal was blissfully unaware of their little dance around the coffee machine, but Reece and Dougie found it hilarious that whenever Spencer headed out of the conference room for his caffeine fix, Peter would disappear from the bull pen, only to reappear as soon as Spencer was safely behind the closed conference door.

“He really doesn’t like you,” Greta said. “I’m not sure taking him into the field will be the best idea. This suspect is dangerous.”

“It’s not that he doesn’t like me. He’s just annoyed I flaunted my position, and he should be, I’m annoyed with myself.” And he was. The interaction had weighed heavy on Spencer after a difficult conversation with Neal about how prickly Peter had been with him for not saying Spencer was the lead agent in the team. It didn’t seem to matter that Neal hadn’t known. He sighed heavily. He’d go on his own, but the suspect had a history of erratic and violent behaviour. It had been a surprise to find him between prison sentences working out of a lock-up in the warehouse district. Everything pointed to the only way of getting near enough to arrest him would be diversion. Diversion in the guise of Neal wanting information on the whereabouts of the suspect’s younger brother. His devilishly handsome, gay, younger brother, with a nasty drug habit and a particular type. Of which, Neal, was a perfect example. Spencer wasn’t pissed enough at Peter to try the diversion on his own, even with his new-found confidence, which in reality didn’t extend past Neal and his team. And besides, protocol stated he take back up.   
“Besides, even if he does dislike me, it doesn’t change the fact I need back up, or that he and Neal are the obvious choice. I trust his professionalism to be able to get this done.”

“Okay,” she said, a note of uncertainty still floating. “Do you want to run it past Hughes, or shall I?”

“I’ll go. I don’t want him to think I feel awkward after our little chat the other day.”

 

Peter looked suspicious seeing Spencer stood against the wall when he entered Hughes’ office. “Ah, Peter,” Hughes smiled. Peter was definitely a favourite. “Spencer’s team have uncovered a lead to an old jewellery heist which requires some active fieldwork.” Peter didn’t say anything. “They’ve tracked down a suspect to the warehouse district. He needs back-up to bring him in and you and Neal fit the bill.”

Peter gave Spencer the side eye, but when he spoke it was to Hughes. “You want us to provide back up? Neal doesn’t carry a weapon. I can offer Jones or Diana to assist.”

“I’ll let the two of you work out the details, but Peter…” Hughes waited until Peter looked at him properly. “I’ve already reviewed the request, and I agree with Spencer. This requires yours and Neal’s expertise.”

“Of course.” Peter glanced over to Spencer. He wasn’t happy. “We’ll help anyway we can.”

 

As expected, Peter’s professionalism made an appearance as soon as Dougie started to fill them in with the case details. He provided some much needed context to the potential complications of bringing in their suspect, and suggested a plan not dissimilar to Spencer’s own on how Neal could distract Markham in order for Spencer and Peter to secure the exits and close in. 

“I’ll have Jones and Diana on standby,” Peter said. “Just in case things go south. Are you taking point?”

Spencer smiled. “No need unless you specifically want me to. They are your team, after all, and the plan is as much yours.”

“Okay, let’s go. I’ll brief them on the way.” 

Neal winked at Spencer on the way out of the door and Spencer’s stomach did a little flip remembering a similar wink from Neal that morning before he expertly swallowed Spencer’s cock and emptied his balls of their contents. He pulled on his collar, his face flushed. A few long deep breaths were in order if he didn’t want to arrest this guy with a raging hard on. 

 

It’s funny how quickly a situation can, to use Peter’s words, ‘go south’. The suspect, one Jeffery Markham, was their guy, and all but confessed on the spot, but as Peter moved in to cuff him he freaked out and produced a blade from god knows where, which was now pressing against Peter’s throat. 

“I’m not going back to prison,” Markham said, nicking Peter’s skin. Spencer watched the small rivulet of blood trickle onto Peter’s aptly white collar. It had been a while since Spencer had drawn his service weapon in the field, but he wasn’t worried. His paranoia about being caught in exactly this situation and being too slow from lack of practise had seen him putting in a lot of extra time at the range in simulation to keep his hand in. Another oddity in his strange new world—he was more comfortable holding his service weapon now he wasn’t called on to use it every couple of days.

His real concern was that Neal would try something stupid and his attention was torn between keeping an eye on him for any sudden movement, and actually dealing with the situation. He glanced over to the counter where Neal had been charming up a storm just moments before. The shock and fear on his face made Spencer angry. Angry that Markham had caused that look. 

A glance back to Peter and Spencer’s training and experience kicked in. 

“I may be able to help with that,” Spencer said calmly, still aiming his weapon. 

“You’re lying.” Markham shifted the blade and another prick to Peter’s skin drew blood. “You won’t let me go.”

“Why would I bother lying to you?”

“To save him.”

“I could just shoot you where you stand to save him.” Peter grimaced as Markham's grip tightened.

Neal took a step towards him. “Spencer…”

“Neal, don’t you dare move another inch.” Neal froze on the spot. “Think about this,” Spencer said to Markham. “We’ve all witnessed you flipping out and taking an FBI agent hostage. That’s not a good thing. Not something say, a stable, healthy man would do. I can arrange for you to go to a hospital instead of prison. Receive treatment for what is obviously a mental disorder.” Markham cocked his head with interest. “It’s not your fault you’re doing this. It’s a result of difficult circumstances in your life, completely out of your control.” Spencer could feel Neal’s eyes on him. “I can get you specialist help. You would still be charged, convicted, but you wouldn’t go to prison, you’d go to a facility. Your room will have windows, and a proper bathroom. Nurses, not guards. Access to drugs, the good stuff.”

“You can…you can do that?”

“I’m a Doctor of Psychology. I used to work in the Behavioural Analysis Unit. It happens more often than you think.” Spencer could see Markham was thinking about it. “But you have to let him go. You have to show you are willing to receive help.” Markham relaxed his hold on Peter, not enough for Peter to get away, but the imminent danger was lessening. Spencer could see Diana waiting outside the door for the signal to move in. “What do you say?”

“It’s not my fault.”

“Of course not. You need help. I can arrange that for you. Drop the knife. Come on, let him go, and I can do that for you.”

Markham dropped his hold on Peter and stepped back, but as Peter moved to disarm him Markham changed his mind, brandishing the knife in Peter's direction. Spencer shot him in the shoulder without another thought and the knife clattered to the ground. Diana and Jones burst into the room and apprehended Markham, ignoring his howls of pain, and insults, and Spencer rushed to Peter, who staggered and was on his knees before Spencer got to him. “Are you okay?” He helped Peter back to his feet.

“I’m fine. Thanks to you. That was some talk down.”

“Old habits…” Spencer smiled and then Neal was hugging Peter, and then hugging Spencer. 

“You okay, boss?” Diana paused on her way out of the door with Markham cuffed and complaining about brutality and wanting his hospital deal. 

“All good. Take him away.”

Neal grinned. “I guess he’s getting his hospital deal after all. Just not the one he wanted.” Neal looked at Spencer. “You were joking about the mental illness thing, right?”

“Absolutely.” The adrenaline spike always made Spencer feel sick. He wanted to puke in the corner, fall to his knees. It had been too close. Too close to Neal.

“You need to get that looked at, Peter.” Neal gestured to Peter’s neck.

“No, it’s just a scratch.” Peter swayed on his feet and Neal steadied him. “I wouldn’t say no to strong coffee and a chair, though.”

“Come on,” Neal said. “Let’s get you back to the office.”

“I think Spencer should drive.” Peter said fishing in his pocket for keys.

“Why Spencer? I can drive. You don’t trust me to drive?”

“It’s better if Neal drives,” Spencer said. “I’ll only get us lost.” The laughter and camaraderie felt good, even if Peter was a little pale and shaky, and for the first time since moving to New York, Spencer missed his old team. The lightness that descended after the darkest hour of the take down, the support and comfort in the small touches, just checking each of them had really survived, was truly okay. He missed them, but he didn’t miss the job, living so close to the edge with every case. Never knowing if the next would be your last. If another crazed psycho was waiting in the wings to destroy your life, or your loved ones. 

Spencer was sweating by the time they reached the car, his heart racing. What if Markham had grabbed Neal instead? As he reached for the door he noticed his hand was shaking. 

Neal helped Peter into the car but stopped Spencer with a hand on his forearm. “Are you okay?”

“I…I’m not sure.”

“It’s all over. You did it, Spencer. Peter’s safe because of you.”

“I can see now why dating within teams is not allowed.” Spencer smiled ruefully. Neal pulled him into a hug. “I was worried about you. I hesitated.”

“There was no sign of that from where I was standing. And it was a good clean shot. You’re bad ass, beautiful.”

“If he’d have put that knife to your throat, I would have shot him in the forehead without a warning.”

Neal kissed him on the cheek, rubbed a steady hand over his back. “Come on, let’s get Peter back to the office. Then I’m taking you home.” Spencer nodded, climbed into the car when Neal opened the door, and closed his eyes as the engine purred to life. Neal was right. He needed to go home. He needed to be able to spend quality time checking Neal was okay, no scratches, no bruises—apart from the fingerprints on his hips from their lovemaking he spotted this morning—and no residual effects from seeing Peter with a knife to his throat. They needed time to catalogue and then release the emotions of coming so close to disaster, and to know it was safe to fully breathe once more.

 

With Markham taken are of, and the team dealing with the paperwork, Spencer took a moment to stare out of the window and reflect. They would leave White Collar today and start fresh Friday morning with the cases waiting in their own offices from all over the country. It would be a shame not to be able to look up and see Neal hovering around the coffee machine or striding into the office after being out with Peter, throwing his hat on his desk as he passed, and flashing Spencer one of their secret smiles before heading into Peter’s office. But it would also be for the best. Spencer hadn’t considered Neal’s position could put him in harms way. He’d read their case history, and yes, it was full of near misses and potential disasters, but it hadn’t seemed real. Today it was all too real. Neal had been kidnapped more than once, shot, drugged, almost blown up. Twice. Suffocated in a vault, attacked with an Egyptian staff…the list went on. He’d be safer in prison. He’d be safer at home with Spencer. Or at home waiting for Spencer. Maybe Spencer could arrange for Neal to serve out his sentence under house arrest. 

“Spencer?”

He turned in his chair. Greta. “Sorry, what?”

“Neal is waiting to take you home.” She paused, assessing. “Maybe you should take tomorrow off. We can hold down the fort, prioritise cases, look at the diary for the next month, and you can come back rested and daisy fresh on Monday.”

“I’m fine, Greta, really.” He tried a reassuring smile, but the concerned look on her face deepened. “I am going home now though. Will you guys be okay packing up all this stuff?”

“Of course. Get out of here, 187.”

 

It was a cheering thought, when he saw Neal sat on the edge of his desk talking to Peter, to think they had the rest of the afternoon and the evening with nothing to think about except each other. 

“Here’s the man of the hour.” Neal stood as Spencer approached and slipped an arm around his waist. Spencer figured Hughes would forgive it on this occasion. “Are you ready to go home?”

“Yeah. I think I need my bed.”

“Your bed?”

“Oh, hey.” Peter put his hands up. “Too much information, guys, come on.” But Spencer noted the concern in Neal’s tone. Spencer’s own bed was out of Neal’s radius. But outside of Neal’s reach was the last place Spencer wanted to be. 

“Why don’t we just head out of the door, and see where we end up?”

Neal smiled and grabbed his hat. “I’m ready.”

Peter, hands on his hips, frowned. “Neal, can you give us a minute?” Neal wandered off towards the elevators and Peter waited until the glass doors closed behind him before turning to Spencer. “I just wanted to apologise for the way I was with you…in the beginning.” He put his hand up to stop Spencer replying. “You did a good job today. You’re an excellent field agent. I can see why the BAU want you back.”

“They do?”

“Management haven’t told you? I can see why. The BAU file a transfer request every Monday morning for you to return to DC.”

That was a surprise, seeing as the only person he’d spoken to since he’d started this job was Garcia, and even she didn’t know where he was living. Well, she did, she was Garcia after all, but they pretended she didn’t. “That’s nice to know, but I like it here.”

“How about we start over? Why don’t you and Neal come to dinner Saturday evening at my place? Elle is a great cook.”

“I’ll speak to Neal, but I uh, yes, I’d like to start over. Your resume is very impressive, and…well, Neal counts you as a friend, so…”

“It makes both our lives easier if we get along.”

“And his too.”

Peter clapped Spencer on the shoulder. “And thanks again. It was a great shot.”

 

“What did he want?” Neal asked as soon as Spencer made it to the elevator. “To invite us to dinner Saturday.”

“Hmm, go figure.” They stepped into the lift and Neal pulled Spencer close for a kiss. “You don’t really want to go back to your place, do you?”

“I have no intention of leaving your side until it is absolutely necessary.” Spencer returned the kiss, light but promising.

“Hey, why don’t we invite Peter and Elizabeth to the club tomorrow night. Elizabeth is more of a jazz fan, but she’ll love the dancing.” Neal stepped away as the elevator reached the ground floor. The exited together and headed across the lobby. “What do you think?”

“Wouldn’t you prefer to have a few more dance lessons under your belt first? We could go to classes an evening a week outside of the club.”

“We can do that anyway, but now seems like a good time to let Peter see what’s going on here.” That would be interesting, because Spencer wasn’t sure he knew what was going on. Maybe Peter could figure it out and let him know. They broke out into the afternoon sunshine and Neal paused to the side of the door away from the foot traffic. “What are you thinking?”

“Huh?”

“You’ve got your thinking face on. Did I say too much?” Neal huffed as Spencer remained silent. It wasn’t that he didn’t know what to say, it was more that the words were stuck in his throat, lost momentarily in a moment of insecurity. “You’d tell me…if I push too hard, move too fast? Come on, Spencer, don’t leave me hanging, here.”

“Neal, I just…it’s…” He couldn’t say it. He shouldn’t say it. It was ridiculous to think it after a week. 

“Oh, god.” Neal turned away from him. “I’m so stupid, sometimes.”

“No, you’re not. It’s… Okay, look, this is all new to me. I’m happy to follow it wherever it goes, but I don’t want or need other people getting involved or giving their opinion at this stage—while I’m still finding my feet. You aren’t moving too fast, or pushing too hard, but I just...I need this to be just for us, okay. For a little bit longer. Please.”

And there was that soft quiet smile Spencer loved so much. “Okay. We’ll save the dancing for another time.” They carried on walking towards Neal’s. “Are you okay for that dinner, though? I can put Peter off for another week or two.”

“No, that’s fine. It’s more of a ‘thanks for saving my life’ thing anyway. But the dancing…that’s ours. For now.”

“And your team’s.”

“Well, yes, but they don’t care whether this works or not. They don’t have the personal investment Peter does in thinking he has to plan and monitor your entire life for you.”

They were already a block from the Bureau, and Neal slipped his arm through Spencer’s. “I know Peter can be full on, but he means well, and he’s been good to me over the years. He’s pulled me out of some really tight spots, stopped me from making some awful mistakes, initiated rescue missions.”

“And if he still thinks I’m a mistake after our dinner date?”

“I said he means well, not that he’s infallible.” Neal leaned in closer against Spencer’s shoulder. “You, Dr. Reid, could never be a mistake.”

It went a little way to calm the turmoil raging in Spencer’s heart and mind. And stomach. But, Spencer couldn’t help wondering if this was the first of many storms they would need to weather.


	10. Chapter 10

“Boy Wonder, I miss you so much, and these late-night phone calls just don’t cut it.” Garcia. His one left over contact from his old life. Aside from his mother, of course, who hated that he’d moved to New York.

“I know, but it’s all I can offer you for the moment.” The silence hung in the air. “I need more time.”

“Okay, okay, I won’t push it, but you know Henry misses you too.”

“I’m sending him letters.”

“But he can’t see you in a letter. He’s five years old.”

“I’ll call him. I spoke to him just the other day, actually.” Spencer chuckled. “He told me about his trip to the zoo, and did you know he has a new bike?” Silence. 

“I’m thinking of getting back with Kevin.” 

“That’s nice. I always liked Kevin.”

“Me too.”

He should tell her about Neal. It would be a good time, now that she’d mentioned Kevin. “Okay, Garcia, I’m going to go now. I have an early start in the morning.”

“Oh, pish posh, you’re a nine to fiver and you know it.”

They both laughed, but it was strained. It was like everything Spencer wasn’t saying sat between them. Was this really what he wanted, to lose Garcia’s friendship, for what? He sighed. “You know…”

“I’m waiting.” He smiled at the hopeful edge in her tone.

“Maybe you should come for a visit. You could stay at my place, and we can go sightseeing.”

“I’m there, just tell me when. And where,” she added as an afterthought. “Is there much to see in your new town?”

“Garcia, I know you know where I live and work.”

“Okay, you caught me. I’m super excited. When can I come?”

“I don’t work weekends any more, so whenever, really. I can always take the Monday off if you want to stay an extra night.” That would be an extra night away from Neal. Neal, that Garcia didn’t know about. Yet. So many times, he’d wanted to tell her and then just…didn’t. Or couldn’t? 

“Okay, leave it with me. I’ve always wanted to go to New York in the summer. Is it really as hot as they say?”

“Oh, it is. Without air-conditioning, I would melt.”

“Okay, bunny, I’m going to sign off and look at my diary.”

“Did you just call me bunny?”

“And why not? You’re all cute and fluffy, after all. See you soon, bunny.” And the connection dropped.

Spencer sighed, and then sighed again. She was right, it was time for the next step in his recovery plan. His new life was coming along nicely. Neal was… Neal was too far away right now, but Spencer insisted on spending half the nights in his own bed and as it was almost two miles outside of Neal’s radius, those nights were nights he had to spend on his own. He’d settled into the job, had friends—even some who didn’t work at the FBI thanks to the dance club and Neal, and wasn’t that a first—loved the city… it was time to heal the wounds he’d left behind. He’d been here almost six months. Had been dating Neal three weeks and four days, or thereabouts, depending on what constituted the beginning of their thing, although it seemed like so much longer, almost as though they had always been together.   
His heart still ached for Maeve on these quiet nights alone, but he had satisfied himself that his feelings for Neal weren’t based on Neal’s ability to mask the pain, and paper over the memories. Neal was something else. Something more. Something bigger than Spencer had ever had and it was built on amazing chemistry—sexual and mental—they stimulated each other. He’d go as far as to say they added to each other, the whole—being their couple—was more than the sum of its parts. Neal’s mind was incredible. He was bright, fast thinking, and his capacity for creative thought impressive. Spencer would love to test his I.Q., and Mozzie’s too, come to that, but neither of them would indulge him. Neal made Spencer a better person. He sanded off the rough, awkward edges, and made him feel worth something in a way nobody ever had before. Not even his mother, which was saying something. With Neal at his side, he was ready to tie up loose ends. Maybe not all at once. But seeing Garcia would be the start. 

 

“Tell me what you need me to do, Spencer.” Neal placed his hands gently on Spencer’s shoulders. Over the course of the last few days—the countdown to Garcia’s visit—Spencer’s anxiety had been spiralling out of control. He’d been grumpy with Neal, snappy at work, he’d even raised his voice to his coffee vendor. “Do you need me to stay out of the way?” Neal asked, he looked concerned. 

“No, absolutely not. I want to spend as much time with you as I can, whether I have a visitor or not. Its bad enough I’ll be spending so much time at my place as it is.”

“Just checking.” Spencer’s declaration seemed to ease Neal’s worry, and Neal’s eased worry seemed to calm Spencer. “Should I come to the airport with you? I can ask Peter, as a one off outside of work to go beyond my radius.”

“Also, a no. I don’t want to be asking favours.” It only gave Peter, everyone, excuses to question whether Spencer should be with Neal at all. “We work around your radius. Besides, it’ll give me time to…you know.”

“You still haven’t told her about me, have you?” Spencer could see Neal was trying to decide whether that was a good or a bad sign. 

“I have no idea how to start the conversation. I’ve never had to…the only serious relationship I’ve had since I’ve known her was Maeve, and…” Neal kissed away his confusion at how to explain the difficulty he was facing. Spencer smiled. “Thank you.”

“I can’t believe I won’t have you in my bed for three nights. Three nights, Spencer.”

“I know.” Spencer held on to Neal’s hips. It would be fine, he’d be busy with Garcia anyway. But Neal wouldn’t. “I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”

“Oh, I’ll hold you to that.” Neal squeezed Spencer’s ass. “Okay, you need to go. I’ll see you at the restaurant later.”

“Got it.”

A half run, half totter on dangerously high heels, lots of squeeing, he believed it was called, the clatter of a dropped suitcase, and Spencer was engulfed in Garcia’s arms. And he didn’t mind. In fact, it was pleasant, so he hugged back. 

“Oh my god, Reid, you just hugged me.” She pushed him back, keeping hold of his arms, but looking him up and down. “Who are you, and what have you done with my baby boy?”

Spencer shrugged. “I guess I missed you.” Or it could be that he was having regular sex, okay, a lot of sex, and was becoming more familiar with physical contact, even if he still wasn’t a hugger, as such. 

“You look different.” She eyed him carefully, and Spencer was relieved she wasn’t a profiler. “You look…good. Like, super-chilled out good.”

“I like it here. New York suits me.”

“It’s more than that, but don’t worry, I’ll figure it out.”

“It’s probably that I’m more at home here. I’m not the only genius weirdo in my team, after all. We all are.”

“So that means what, exactly?”

“I feel normal here. I am normal here.”

“Well, if that’s what it is, it’s working for you, pretty boy. I’ve never seen you look so handsome and relaxed.” Garcia had always made him feel that way, she was different too, from the others. Maybe if there had been more of her, if there had been more people like them in DC…but then, he still wouldn’t have had Neal.   
“I’ve found my niche,” Spencer said, picking up the handle of her case from the floor. “Everyone is a little odd in New York. Even the way I dress works for me here rather than making me different. This is my home.”

She threaded her arm through his. “You have no idea how good it is to see you, and to hear you so…happy. You sound really happy.”

“I am happy, Garcia. I didn’t think I’d get to this place so soon.”

“Then lead the way, boy wonder. There are adventures to be had by this intrepid duo in the Big Apple.”

 

They’d dropped Garcia’s stuff at Spencer’s apartment, had coffee at his local place, receiving a raised eyebrow from the barista, possibly because Spencer had only ever been there alone before now and just chilled out for the afternoon. They talked about cases he’d missed, and Spencer explained what he did now. It was easy company, and all Spencer’s fears about not knowing what to say or feeling awkward had evaporated. 

They’d changed—Garcia wanting to dress up for dinner and dancing—and installed themselves at the bar of the restaurant. Spencer was nervous. As far as experiments went, this one would be easier in public with everyone on their best behaviour. Besides, he’d invited June to ensure that would be the case. She was such a sweet, well to-do lady that an air of respectful calm remained around her at all times. Of course, Spencer knew she could work as good a con as Neal or Mozzie any day. It added to her charm and character. Spencer liked her very much. 

“Who is it we’re meeting for dinner?” Garcia asked for the umpteenth time.

“Just a couple of friends.”

“You have no idea how good it is to hear you say you have friends, Reid. I’ve been so worried about you being lonely.”

“I’ve never been lonely, Garcia. I have too many solitary pursuits I enjoy.”

“That’s my point, exactly.” She glanced towards the door. “Oh, sweet lord, please tell me this is one of your friends.” Spencer turned to see Neal wave from the door. “It is, he’s waving at us, oh, Reid, you shouldn’t have got me such an extravagant gift. Please tell me he’s single, no wait, don’t bother I’ll fight whoever it is for him.”

“In that case we’ll have to find you somewhere else to stay.” Garcia snapped her head to Spencer just as Neal got to them.

“You must be Garcia. May I call you Penelope?”

“You can call me whatever you want, sugar.” Neal gave her a bright smile. The jury was still out as to whether it was a real one. 

“Garcia, this is Neal Caffrey.” 

Neal stepped in to give Spencer a kiss on the cheek and slip an arm around Spencer’s waist. “I’m the boyfriend he probably still hasn’t told you about yet, and yes, it’s serious.” 

Garcia poked Spencer in the upper arm, extracting an ‘ow’, because…ow. “Oh, you sneaky sneaker, you. Reid, why didn’t you tell me you had eye-candy to look out for you. I wouldn’t have been so worried all this time.”

“He’s not eye-candy, Garcia.”

“Oh, he is, baby boy.” She smirked at Neal. “And he knows it. Well, those baby blues won’t work on me now I know who you belong to. But feel free to bat those lashes at me regardless.”

Neal looked at Spencer. “Baby boy?”

“I’ll explain later. Oh, here’s Mozzie and June.”

 

Quietly respectful went out of the window once Garcia finished her second glass of wine and things descended into raucous laughter soon after. To the point Spencer was concerned they would be asked to leave. It was a nice restaurant, after all.

“And did he tell you about his fling with the Hollywood starlet?”

“No,” Mozzie and June said together. “Though I don’t doubt it for a minute,” June added.

“Garcia…” Spencer called her to order. 

“Oh, posh, boy wonder, who else will tell them all your little secrets.”

“No one, and that’s kind of the point. They are secrets for a reason, after all.”

“But not from your sugar bear, here, by the looks of it.”

Neal grinned and picked up the wine bottle from the table. “More wine?”

“I think she’s had enough already,” Spencer cautioned. “Especially if we’re going to visit the club after this.”

“Oh, the club.” Garcia smiled. “Is it true Reid actually dances now?”

“He does.” Neal topped up her water glass instead. “And he’s good.”

“Does he share?”

“I’m sorry?”

“Dancing. Will I be allowed to dance with you?”

“I’m not sure that will be a good idea in those heels. You realise it’s a swing club, right? Lindy-bop, jitterbug….”

“Oh, sugar, you would be surprised what I can do in these heels.” She winked at Mozzie and he chuckled. 

“She’s wonderful,” he said to Spencer. “Can I keep her? Oh, oh, you have to introduce her to the suit. He won’t know what to do with himself.”

Wasn’t that the truth. “Peter and Elizabeth will be at the club later.” Spencer had figured Garcia would be a big enough distraction Peter wouldn’t look too closely at anything else. The last few weeks, since the hostage incident, things had been good with Peter, but Spencer was still uncomfortable with the level of interest Peter took in Neal’s personal life outside of just being friends. It didn’t seem right or healthy, and Spencer had more than a sneaking suspicion—more of a profiler’s instinct—that Peter’s interest in Neal strayed into the inappropriate, although he doubted Peter would ever act on it because of his love for his wife. He was a good man at the heart of it, and Spencer couldn’t see him cheating. Not that Neal would entertain it even if Peter stated an interest, but that wasn’t the point. The point, was that Peter needed to back off. Neal only had six months left on his sentence, and although they hadn’t discussed that particular elephant, Spencer could see the transition being difficult for Peter. 

“Are you okay?” Neal placed a hand on Spencer’s thigh under the table.

Spencer tried for a smile. “Sure.” Neal’s look told him he’d failed. “Nothing that can’t wait,” he said, trying again for a smile. “I promise.” That was enough to settle Neal’s nerves. It was funny how they were still so insecure of each other’s feelings despite how good things were, had been, in fact, from the beginning. They’d slipped into this ‘thing’ like a second skin, like it had always been. It was so natural, so comfortable, and yet exhilarating, and spontaneous, and life affirming. A gift. Every single moment of it. And so Spencer could be forgiven for his growing concern over what would happen to it—to them—once Neal was free to go anywhere, and do anything.

“Do you want to take five minutes, maybe get some air before we go to the club?” He did. He really did. But he couldn’t see how it was possible without seeming rude. 

“You don’t have to babysit me, boy wonder,” Garcia said, squeezing his hand. “Go have five minutes with your squeeze, I bet you’re desperate to get all up on that.” She giggled. “Oh, god, I’m channelling Morgan. Go, I’ll be fine. I can tell Mozzie and June more secret stuff.”

Neal took his hand, and led him away from the table, out of the restaurant, and into the beginning of the alley next to it. He slipped his hands onto Spencer’s hips and leaned in for a tender kiss. “I think we should have a new rule.” He kissed him again. “Every time something comes up, a worry, or concern, how ever small it seems…we should say it straight away, so it doesn’t grow into anything bigger. How does that sound?”

“Okay, I guess.”

“Then what’s on your mind?”

“Random thoughts about what you’ll do once your tracker comes off.”

“Ah, you wonder whether I’ll leave New York?” Spencer shrugged. “Whether I’ll leave you?”

“Okay, well, it’s been on my mind too, though for a different reason.” He put a finger to Spencer’s lips. “I keep thinking the FBI are going to find a way to keep it on. That my sentence will never be over.”

“They can’t do that.”

“They can if they charge me with something else.”

“I can look at that for you. Make sure when your deal is up, your work to date gives you immunity for any crimes committed before your deal started. It won’t cover anything new, of course.”

“We can talk about it once Penelope has gone home, but Spencer, the one thing I do know is that whatever happens when my anklet comes off, I want to be with you.” 

Spencer nuzzled into Neal’s neck. “You really mean that?”

“It’s the only thing I know for sure, right now, and I don’t see it changing anytime soon.”

“That’s good. That is very good.”

“It would be nice to think we could maybe get away for a few weeks. Take a vacation, somewhere exotic where we won’t need clothes.”

“I could get behind that idea.”

“So, it’s settled. Now, anything else before we go back inside?”

“Just this…” And Spencer kissed him, long and deep, with everything he could muster.


	11. Chapter 11

“Oh, ow, ow, I think Neal was right about dancing in these shoes.” Garcia flopped onto the couch and flicked off her heels. “That is so much better.”

“Coffee?”

“Herbal tea? I’ve brought some with me in case you don’t have any. I know what a caffeine addict you are.”

Spencer rolled his eyes. He’d had a single coffee in the time she’d been here. “I have camomile or peppermint. Nothing fancy, I’m afraid.”

“Camomile is perfect.” Spencer filled the kettle and set it to boil. Got out cups, and teabags, all with Garcia’s eyes on him. “I figured out what’s different,” she said. He could hear the grin in her voice. 

“I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Of course, you do, boy genius.” She shifted in her seat. “You are having great sex. Regular great sex. Which is why you look so chilled out. Lots of orgasms will do that to you.”

“I have been dating for more than three months, so yes, we are having sex.”

“But it’s great sex,” she said. “There’s a difference. Your friends, your team, by the way, they are just great. I can see why you feel so at home. I think I would like to work here with you guys too, not that I could. I mean, Hotch would hunt me down and drag me back to DC.”

“So would Morgan.”

She grinned. “Yes, I believe he would. He’s been so miserable without you.”

“Garcia…”

“It’s okay, I promise I won’t mention it again. But, back to sex…not all sex is equal, and you, my friend, are getting the good stuff.”

Spencer poured the boiled water and set the cups on the coffee table. He sat in the chair opposite her and crossed his legs. “I will admit the sex is excellent.”

“Ha, I knew it.” She picked up her tea and blew it a few times. “You know he could have stayed over. I am a grown-up, Spencer. I can cope with the idea of you making out on the other side of your bedroom door.”

“As I’ve given you the bedroom…”

“You know what I mean. And you didn’t have to, by the way, this couch is amazingly comfortable.” She sipped the tea, winced, and blew on it again.

“Neal has never been here.” He’d caught her up with most things in regard to their relationship, but Neal’s convicted felon status, wasn’t one of them.

She was quiet for a moment, staring into her mug. “It doesn’t matter,” she said finally. 

“Are you going to expand on that?” Even though he knew exactly what she meant and was relieved to hear it.

“Reid, I have never seen you this happy, this comfortable in your own skin. I don’t care who he is, or what he’s done.” She looked at Spencer, and he could see how serious she was. “He’s good for you.”

“Thank you. I know it, but thank you for thinking it too.”

“So, come on, then, spill… I thought I saw a tracking anklet when you were dancing. Is he on probation?”

“He’s serving out the remainder of his sentence for bond forgery with the FBI.”

“Technically still in prison, then. Hence the position as civilian consultant to White Collar. That’s Peter, right?”

Spencer nodded. “He has a two-mile radius. That covers a lot of ground in New York, but it can be frustrating sometimes.” Spencer sipped at his tea. “There are also restrictions on some museums and art galleries.” 

“Because?”

“He’s implicated in a number of other art thefts, forgeries and confidence scams.” They both smirked.

“You found yourself a real life bad boy. Colour me impressed.” She tucked her feet underneath her on the couch. “Is that why Peter is so tetchy about you two?”

“I think it’s a number of things with Peter. He warned me off initially because he said a relationship with Neal would ruin my career, and to be fair, it has definitely caused some blips in his.”

“But they aren’t sleeping together.”

“No. Never have. But I think Peter is interested, which is another reason he doesn’t like having me around.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised if that were true, although his wife is lovely. I’d go as far as to say she has a little crush on Neal herself. You don’ think they want him as a third, do you?”

Spencer hadn’t considered Elizabeth’s interest. He hadn’t seen enough of her to say one way or another if she was interested in Neal sexually, other than the obvious—that most women were. “I don’t know if she’d go that far.”

“Hmm, don’t underestimate the quiet ones, Reid. They have all sorts of cards up their sleeves.” Garcia placed her cup back on the table. “I’m no profiler,” she said. “But I did pick up Peter’s a little…obsessed is the wrong word…”

“Over-protective, for sure. He wants to know the ins and outs of everything happening in Neal’s life. Every phone call, every date. I don’t know whether he’s flat out jealous, or he is genuinely concerned Neal is casing his next job every time we go out. You know, he turned up on our first date at the Met. and got really angry when I reminded him I worked for the Bureau so was an acceptable chaperone as laid out in the terms of his deal. The anger could have been because he sees me replacing him as Neal’s key to the city.”

“And the deal he has?”

“I’m working on case precedent to get it annulled. He’s served more than his time and then some, and the work he’s done certainly warrants his release. Did you know he was part of the team that brought in Rob McCleish? From a non-extradition country, no less. And it was Neal and Peter who recovered the submarine of Nazi plundered treasure a few years back.” Spencer left out the greyer details surrounding the high profile cases Neal had closed. That Neal had been completely honest with Spencer about his involvement in the shadier aspects was good enough for him.

“I’ll have to start calling him boy wonder.”

“Neal’s concerned the Bureau will find a reason to extend his sentence. They tried to before. Art Crimes in DC tried to have him convicted for several thefts and have him serve out what they hoped would be a life sentence with them.”

“Art Crimes…oh, that must be Kramer. I never did like him. Little weasel of a man. I’ll help you anyway I can.” She smiled. “Do you think he’s reformed?”

Spencer laughed. “Too soon to say. I have an inkling life will always be interesting. We’ve been to some amazing restaurants, spur of the moment, that would normally have a six-month waiting list. He just breezes in, and everyone falls over themselves to accommodate us. It’s really quite something. He is walking proof that you should always ask for what you want. I would hope he’s over the big stuff, however.”

“And you’ve talked about that?”

“Not out right. We’ve said we’ll talk about what will happen once the tracker is off. Next week, actually. So…” He shrugged. “I guess I’m just making the most of it. If there’s one thing the situation with Maeve taught me, it’s not to waste time.”

“Does he know about her?”

“I told him everything, and I mean everything, after we spent our first night together. Garcia, our lives have been so similar. The girl he thought was the love of his life was killed in front of him, just like me with Maeve. Do you know how rare it is that we would both live through that?” He managed not to quote the actual statistics. “And there are other things we’ve both experienced, things that shape your perception of the world…and our interests. You know I’ve never once known him to turn on his TV at home. We’ve watched the odd film together, but his apartment is filled with books, and he reads, or studies when he’s alone. Not for degrees, or academia, just because he enjoys it.”

“That’s why you feel normal here.”

“Neal, Mozzie, the team…we’re all the same.”

“Mozzie. Now he is a character.”

“Also a bad boy. Never convicted. Definitely not reformed.”

“And very much like me.” She grinned. “I have no idea where I’d be now if Hotch hadn’t strong armed me into the Bureau.” 

“The BAU was family,” he said dipping his head. “But I have a new family now, and this time I’m not the quirky odd one out.” 

“I see that, and it suits you. And we are going to get this thing sorted out for Neal so that freedom means exactly that. But right now, I need to sleep. What are our plans tomorrow?”

“Meeting Neal for lunch, then shopping—he is a seasoned shopper. He knows the classiest places.”

“Oh, goody.” She clapped her hands. “Not that my style has much to do with class, but I do like to be pampered by floor assistants working on commission, and he looks expensive.”

“He is expensive. Many of his clothes are vintage designer pieces, and the new things…he spends more on his boxers than I do on an entire outfit. I didn't even know it was possible to spend that kind of money on underwear.” 

“I may have to ask for evidence of these golden boxers.”

“Well, boxer briefs. Form fitting, very…” Spencer cleared his throat, and Garcia grinned. “Dinner at June’s,” Spencer continued. “And then we’ll take it from there.”

“Sounds perfect.” She wandered over and kissed his cheek. “Good night, Spencer. I love you.”

He smiled. “It’s really good to see you, too.”


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Total fluff...toothache predicted. 
> 
> Mostly dialogue.  
> Just imagine our boys naked in the afternoon sun on Neal's terrace, embracing on a lounger, with Neal sat between Spencer's knees, leaning back against him. Soft touches, tender kisses, and long slow stroking of limbs while they talk....

With Garcia on her way back to DC, and the frantic, life-affirming sex out of the way, Neal settled against Spencer’s side on the recliner. It was his new favourite thing to do—lounge naked in the afternoon, or morning, or evening sun, just the two of them. Neal sighed contentedly. In that moment, he couldn’t think of a single thing that would make life any better. 

Spencer nuzzled into Neal’s neck, kissed his way up to Neal’s ear. “I missed you,” he breathed, rather than whispered. Spencer stroked lazily over Neal’s thigh and hip, back along his thigh. “I missed this.”

“Three days felt like a lifetime.” Neal settled further between Spencer’s legs and leaned back against his chest. He pulled Spencer’s hand across his stomach. “Seeing you but not touching…torture.”

“I don’t have any other house guests planned for a while. And actually, I wanted to talk to you about something.”

Nerves tingled, and Neal braced himself. “Okay…”

“I thought, now we’ve been dating for a while, I could ask for my apartment to be included on your list of agreed places to visit outside of your radius.”

“You want me to ask Peter?”

“No. I was going to approach Hughes and the Marshalls Service through official channels. I don’t want Peter to think he’s doing us any favours. It’s a cut and dried request. I’m more than enough of a safety net for the legal aspect, and it’s in their interests to cultivate this relationship.”

“Because you’re such a good influence on me?”

Neal could feel Spencer’s grin against his shoulder. “Exactly.”

“I didn’t realise it was a possibility. Peter has always been kind of shifty about how my radius works.”

“I doubt it’s intentional. He probably doesn’t know the list of potential exceptions, one of which is to pursue or maintain romantic relationships that can be viewed as healthful and supportive to the individual’s rehabilitation.”

“Pursue or maintain…” Neal’s heart did a little flip. “Does that mean…”

“We can potentially date outside of your radius?” Spencer chuckled. “I think it does. I’m going to request clarification when I register my address.”

“What brought this on?”

“Garcia, actually. She agrees with me, that your deal is not all it’s cracked up to be. I mean, really, if it wasn’t for this place, and Byron’s vintage suit collection, would you be as happy with it as you currently are?”

Neal thought back to the dingy room the Bureau had arranged for him, and the second-hand clothes he would have been wearing if not for that fateful meeting with June. Would he have made it this far without running? Impossible to say for sure, but certainly improbable. “I hadn’t given it much thought.”

“Well, we have. We did some research this morning, and she found a number of exceptions to your radius, including the one I’ve already mentioned, but she also found some good precedent for having your anklet removed altogether.”

“No anklet?”

“I’m looking forward to seeing you completely naked in the very near future.” 

“But you’re sure?”

“There are cases where sentences are served out with the Bureau without tracking, and we have enough evidence to suggest you are no longer a flight risk, so that’s one possibility. But, she’s actually taking over the search with me to have the rest of your sentence expunged all together, including the immunity for all crimes prior to your latest contract with the Bureau I suggested before.”

“If anyone can do it, you two can. You know that’s not why I’m with you though, don’t you?”

“Don’t worry. I may have a family history of paranoia, but so far, I’m yet to think you’re conning me. Even though you are a professional conman.”

“Ex-conman. Rehabilitated.”

“So, the box seats to the opera last month when we should have been in the stalls?”

“What? They offered the upgrade.”

“And front row for the quintet?”

“They don’t like spaces at the front, and the original ticket holders cancelled at the last minute. We’re getting off track,” Neal said, and Spencer chuckled. “We said we’d talk about what happens to us when this thing is off.”

“When you can go anywhere in the world.” Spencer rested his head on Neal’s shoulder. “Neal…I will understand if it’s not here. At least, initially.”

“Okay, firstly, I’ve refused to run with Mozzie before now because I like living in New York. It’s my home. I’m like you, remember, this is the first place, the only place I’ve felt I belong.” Neal patted Spencer’s thigh. “Secondly, I have no intentions of leaving you. If you are here, then I am here.”

“It’s that simple?”

“It is from where I’m sitting.”

“What will you do for work?”

“I think I’d make a pretty good barista.” They both laughed. “But, in an ideal world, I’d continue to consult for the FBI on White Collar crime. If you are moving around the country with work, then maybe I can too, but otherwise I’d like to carry on working with the New York division. I don’t have the best history with DC, so I’d avoid there if possible.”

“Kramer.”

“You know him?”

“Garcia does. I haven’t had the pleasure. As a tech analyst, if the BAU is quiet, she works with other departments. I think their paths crossed a few times. I can tell you she wasn’t impressed.”

“How come they offered Garcia a job, rather than convicting her and having her work out her sentence?”

“That’s a question for Hotch. I’d only been in the job a couple of weeks when she came on board.”

“Maybe I’ll ask Garcia next time she’s in town. I didn’t think it was appropriate to ask her the first time we met.”

“She wouldn’t have minded. Neal, I have something else to ask you. Something a little more delicate, perhaps.”

“Anything, Spencer. I promise I’ll never lie to you.”

“Are you…do you consider yourself rehabilitated?” Spencer was grinning, but Neal could see it was a serious question. A serious question that required a truthful answer. 

“Would you understand if I said ‘for the moment’?” Spencer’s brows drew together in his thinking face. “Okay, how about this… there are times when I run through possible jobs, when I think about cons Moz is working on, when I hear of heists, and art thefts, when I forget I have a new life. And, I’m constantly going over options at work with Peter, and it keeps me fired up and I enjoy that, enjoy the challenge…” He sighed. “In the interests of full disclosure, and because I want you to see I’m serious that I would never lie to you, there was a time not too long ago—before you—when I was counting down the days to get back to my ‘true calling’ as Mozzie puts it, because the Bureau…Peter included, had screwed me over one time too many…”

“And now?” Spencer asked carefully. 

“Now…” Neal kissed Spencer’s hand. “Now I want to be with you. The only reason I would have gone back to that life is to get away from Peter, and everything here that just compounded painful memories. I don’t need to do that anymore. I have nothing to run from, Spencer. Everything in the world I need is right here with you, and I know that sounds super-cheesy, but you deserve the truth.” They sat for a while, and then Neal remembered something. “You know, Mozzie asked me once, before Kate died, whether I would really settle down with the little house, the picket fence, the dog, and the 2.3 kids, and I said in a heartbeat. Because really, that’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

“You just want the American dream?”

Neal sensed a hint of disappointment, but that was okay, because Spencer hadn’t caught the reality in what he’d said. “Not the dream. All I’ve ever wanted is someone to be with. Someone who knows the real me, and still wants to stick around. Someone who sees through the conman smile and wants to be with me, not the dream being sold with the quick charm and the easy smile.”

Spencer squeezed him into a hug. A reassuring, promise, that Spencer, at least Neal hoped, saw himself as that person, the one who knew the everyday Neal, the Neal nobody else took the time to see, not even Mozzie, not even Kate, or Sarah, or Alex. Neal wanted so badly to tell Spencer how much he loved him already, but he didn’t want to burden him with so much still up in the air over how Neal’s sentence would end and what came next for him. Better to wait it out a little longer. Maybe? But he really didn’t know. He’d asked Elizabeth once, how she knew Peter was the one. She’d said it’s when you love the actual person, and not the idea of the person. Neal wasn’t sure what the idea of Spencer was, but he loved the man sat with him now, listening with all of his attention, hearing the things Neal said, and those he couldn’t, and just sharing life, every moment.

“You’ll tell me if it’s not what you want, won’t you?” Neal said, as the afternoon sun started to dip into evening.

“I think you said it well enough for both of us. I’m not looking to buy into a dream. I want someone who sees me, and who allows me to see them. Someone to share moments with, just like this.”

“I still want to go on holiday,” Neal said after a few moments in thought. “You, me, endless sand and warm seas. What do you say?”

“I don’t really like sand, but warm seas and lots of you sounds perfect.”

“No sand, huh? I’ll need to rethink the destination.”

“Wherever it is, it’ll be wonderful.”

 

Peter was in a mood. Neal could feel it all the way from across the office. “What’s up with Peter?” he asked Jones. Jones shrugged. 

“Whatever it is, he keeps looking at you.”

“That’s what worries me. You’ve no idea at all?”

“Nope, and I don’t want to.”

“Thanks.” He huffed. “Very helpful.”

“You’re welcome. Next time remember, when you rub the boss the wrong way, we all get caught in the fallout.”

Jones scarpered as Peter opened his door. “Neal.” 

Shit. Oh, well. At least he’d know what the problem was now. Maybe find a solution that would stop Peter looking as though he’d sucked on lemons for breakfast.

“What can I do for you?”

“Close the door and sit down.” He did as he was asked, straightening his tie a few times, crossing and uncrossing, then re-crossing his legs.”

“Stop fidgeting.”

“You make me nervous when you’re mad at me for no reason.”

“Why would I be mad at you?”

“Um…for no reason, like I said.”

“Did you know Spencer was filing his address with the Marshalls Service for your tracking detail?”

“He mentioned it last night, I didn’t think he’d do it so soon. But then he’s very efficient like that.” Neal smiled, but Peter’s frown deepened. 

“Why didn’t he just ask me?”

“Why don’t you pick up the phone and ask him?”

“Because I have you.”

“That isn’t fair, and you know it. You’re taking advantage.”

“Just tell me, damn it.”

“Fine, he said it would be more appropriate to go through official channels.”

“I’m the official channel, Neal.” 

Ah, and that’s what the mood was for. Peter saw himself as the official channel, the only channel and he wanted to be the one to grant access to a life. Nothing Neal could say would make Peter feel better, and if he was honest, Neal didn’t want him to feel better because he was being childish. Neal realised he’d missed half a pissed Peter rant, but he didn’t care. “If that’s all, Peter, I have files on my desk.”

“You really weren’t going to tell me?”

“It never crossed my mind you would even be interested where we watch movies, have sex, or sleep. Not that Spencer has a TV. What difference does it really make?”

“What diff… I’ve given you a good life, Neal.”

“Yes, you have. Now let me live it without you breathing down my neck every second of every day.” Neal hadn’t meant to raise his voice. “I’m sorry, I…”

“No, no, I get it.”

“Do you?” Peter looked…broken. “Peter, not a day goes by when I don’t appreciate everything you’ve done for me. You’re a good friend. You always will be. But you want me to build a life for myself, don’t you? One that will see me staying on a good path?”

“You know I do.”

“Spencer is a good path for me.” Peter sighed. “Don't you want me to have what you have with Elizabeth? I love him, Peter. And I know I fall easy, but this time…I really think this is it for me.”

A quirk of a smile pushed away Peter’s frown. “Have you told him?”

“It’s too soon. I don’t want to spook him.”

“And he knows everything?”

“Everything.”

“About the Nazi…”

“Treasure, and Cape Verde, and the Raphael…he knows the very worst, Peter, and he’s still with me. That has to count for something.” He even knew about the Degas forgery, and the Italian Embassy job for the music box, and breaking in to Diana’s apartment, and Peter’s safe for the manifesto… As soon as Neal realised how hard he was falling, he’d told Spencer everything. The two-million he’d given Moz and more besides. And he’d laid out every single account, and false ID, and every penny he had to his many, many names. Spencer had taken it all in and dismissed it as his past. And he’d told Neal he was only interested in what happened next. He’d given Neal a clean slate, because, he’d said, Neal was not his crimes, or his cons, he was just Neal. And Neal knew in that moment, he’d never love another person as much, or as deeply as he loved Spencer. All the rest had been puppy love preparing him for this defining moment of giving not just heart, but himself, entirely to this beautiful, beautiful man.


	13. Chapter 13

“You are…incredible. You know that, right?” Neal stroked a hand over Spencer’s hair as he read the next title in a stack of books he’d selected. 

Spencer looked up from the book and smiled. “And I think you are what is described as ‘a keeper’, for the fact you brought me to the New York Public Library on a date and are then willing to sit there and watch me read.”

“Well, I knew you would love it. And, watching you read is like appreciating a masterpiece. I could stare at it for hours and still find something new and intriguing to keep me occupied.” Neal touched his cheek. “As you’ve read every book in my apartment in a few short weeks, I thought this would be a nice surprise.”

“It is. You have no idea.” He squeezed Neal’s hand. “I’ll just finish this book, and we’ll get some lunch.” Spencer’s heart melted just a little as Neal smiled. Spencer loved what he’d come to think of as Neal’s quiet smile. It wasn’t the flashy, charming grin he gave freely to anyone and everyone. This one was special. This one was Spencer’s alone. 

Over the last few weeks of their ‘thing’, Spencer had noticed Neal had a number of smiles that communicated different things. There was the cheeky smile that told you he was about to do something he shouldn’t; the flashy smile he used in his cons; the sad smile he brought out, again in his cons, to suggest empathy; his mirthful smile when he was so excited he couldn’t contain himself; and a whole bunch of others he bestowed on the population because he was just that guy—the guy who tried to brighten everyone else’s life in the hope they wouldn’t look too closely at him. But there was another smile, or rather collection of smiles, that he saved just for Spencer. 

The list included the quiet smile, quickly becoming Spencer’s favourite, that said ‘you are my world’; the bright smile, that said ‘I am in awe of you, never change’; the promise smile, that said ‘I can’t wait to get you behind closed doors to rip your clothes off’; the lazy smile he couldn’t hold in after sex; and a collection of others Spencer was still categorising. Neal was a master confidence man. All his smiles made his eyes sparkle, but the ones he saved for Spencer… well, they penetrated deep into secret places within Spencer’s heart and mind with an intensity that took his breath away. There was no way to get around the obvious any more. Spencer had fallen in love. Real love, deep and abiding even though it had been only four weeks, three days, and ten hours since their first kiss. A kiss Spencer had initiated. Spencer acknowledged the transformation of himself and his life with a joy he’d never experienced. Neal was…revolutionary.

He read the last page, closed the book, and placed it on the pile in front of him, taking a moment to stroke the spine, and he sighed contentedly. “I have a taste for something…”

“Like me?”

“Always,” Spencer smiled and reached in for a light kiss. “And for lunch maybe fish?”

“I know the perfect place.” 

They ambled comfortably along the street, bumping shoulders, occasionally holding hands, so lost in conversation Spencer barely registered the man in front of him until a young boy launched himself into Spencer’s arms. “Spencer,” he cheered. “Daddy, you never said we were going to see Spencer.”

The ten seconds it took for Spencer to pull himself back from wherever Neal had taken him felt like a lifetime. “Hey, Jack,” he heard himself say. “What a surprise.” He couldn’t help but smile, as Jack hugged him tightly. He looked up to see Hotch, and Beth, both as shocked as he was himself. 

“Reid. I…we’re here visiting Beth for the weekend.” Hotch cast an eye in Neal’s direction.

There was a flurry of feelings too confusing to sift through, but Spencer was relieved anger wasn’t one of them. May be because he’d had such a good time with Garcia the other weekend. “It’s good to see you, Hotch.” He hoped his smile communicated the truth of it. It must have, because Hotch relaxed a fraction, as much as Hotch ever did, anyway. “This is my partner, Neal.” Jack let go of Spencer to look over at Neal. “Neal this is Aaron Hotchner, my old boss from the BAU, his girlfriend Beth, and his son Jack.”

“Fiancé now.” Hotch grinned, holding his hand out to Neal. “You’re working on a Saturday? I thought you were nine to five these days.”

Spencer frowned, but Neal chuckled. “Oh, I’m not that kind of partner. I’m his boyfriend.” 

The complicated look on Hotch’s face was eased by Beth’s delighted smile. “How lovely to meet you,” she said, offering her hand to Neal. “I’m pleased he has someone looking out for him. We miss him a great deal.” Spencer knew she was really talking about the team, but he wasn’t going there. Not now.

“Look how much you’ve grown,” he said to Jack. “At least we know dad is feeding you well.” He went in for a tickle, and Jack squirmed, and gave a light, summery laugh. 

“We were heading for lunch,” Neal said. “Would you like to join us?”

“Can we, daddy? Please, please…”

“Beth?”

She looked at her watch. “We have time.”

“We have matinee tickets,” Hotch said as explanation. 

They settled into the restaurant, and the awkwardness soon wore off. Helped along by Neal’s charm, and ability to hold a lively conversation with a brick wall. Hotch didn’t mention the team, other than to say they were all well and missed Reid terribly and Spencer was grateful for that. Now he was no longer part of the team, he supposed the courtesy not to profile each other was no longer in place and Hotch clearly read a deeper conversation about the BAU would be unwelcome.

Neal regaled them with stories of high profile busts of his and Peter’s, much to Jack’s delight. He particularly enjoyed the one about submarines and long-lost treasure. Hotch laughed too, and Spencer recognised the good influence Beth was in his life. No doubt Hotch was thinking the same of Neal. 

With the meal finished, they wandered back out on to the street. Neal, surprisingly good with Jack, entertained him and Beth to some slight of hand magic while Spencer stood with Hotch, watching.

“You look good, Spencer. Rested.”

“I am. Life here is very different.”

“I can see that. He’s…” Jack screeched at something Neal had done, and Hotch laughed. “He seems to be just what you need.”

“He’s everything I need.” Spencer gave a bashful glance over to Neal. “I love him already, Hotch. Is that really possible, or am I fooling myself?”

“Absolutely possible. And obvious, actually. He loves you too, very much.” Hotch placed a hand on Spencer’s shoulder and he felt for all the world like the kid they all thought he was at the BAU. “You have no idea how happy I am for you, and glad we bumped into each other.”

“Me too. I would appreciate it, though, if you didn’t tell the others.”

“I understand. They still don’t know where you are. The requests I’ve made for your return have always been private, and I’ll stop sending them now I know you’re happy.”

“Thank you.”

“I only sent them so you would know you could always come home.” Hotch smiled. “But I can see you have a new home now.”

“I wish you could meet my team. They’re amazing.”

“Maybe one day you’ll be assigned to clean up in DC.”

“Maybe.”

Beth looked over at Hotch and gave an apologetic smile. “We need to be leaving.”

They gave congratulations and said their goodbyes, with promises to meet up again when Jack was in New York. Spencer agreed to stay in touch with Beth, and Neal suggested she come to dinner at June’s. Spencer felt sad seeing them walk away, Jack bouncing excitedly about both seeing Spencer, and the show they were on the way to see. 

“Are you okay?” Neal rubbed a hand over Spencer’s back. 

“I will be. You’re here, after all.” They kissed a little. “You know I love you, right?” The words had bubbled up from inside without Spencer’s permission and just landed there between them. 

Neal gave Spencer his very best ‘promise’ smile that made Spencer’s insides tingle with need. “I’m really glad to hear it,” Neal said, his voice cracked with emotion. “Because I can say without doubt, I love you too.”


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sappy fluff, with a pinch of BAMF Spencer.

“God, you’re such a tease.” Neal pushed Spencer against the nearest hard surface—the hall inside June’s front door—and dived in for a deep, punishing kiss that forced a small ‘oomph’ out of Spencer. Spencer pushed back, and Neal stumbled towards the stairs. Spencer pushed again, and Neal fell, his ass hitting the stair, but before he could complain Spencer crawled over him, kissing fiercely, pulling at Neal’s tie, then his own. 

“You wear too many clothes.” Spencer growled in frustration pulling back to undo the buttons on Neal’s waistcoat. Neal lifted the hem on Spencer’s sweater vest, not wanting to fall behind, but it tugged against Spencer’s gun. They both took pause. 

“Maybe you should take that off before I shoot you, or both of us, by accident.”

Spencer stood, hovering over Neal and straightened his holster. “It would redefine the term crime of passion.” His grin was glorious, and Neal wanted to devour him. “But I can’t just leave it lying around.” He unhitches the holster from his pants. “Come on,” he held out his hand and dragged Neal to his feet, “we can finish this upstairs.”

“Like I said, a tease.” Neal jumped up a couple of steps as Spencer slapped his ass. Neal didn’t know why, but he’d been horny all day. He’d tried to meet Spencer for coffee but the case he was working with Peter had been full on. By the time Neal had a gap, Spencer was in full-focus mode and couldn’t be budged. Watching him through the conference room window on the nineteenth floor had brought Neal’s desperation to a head, and he had to walk away before he jumped Spencer in the office. It had taken forever to wrap things up for the evening, and now, finally, after Spencer getting all touchy-feely on the way home, Neal was being made to wait until they climbed four flights of stairs…so Spencer could put his gun away properly. It made sense, he guessed, rather than the alternative accidental shooting incident. “What did you do with my tie pin?”

Spencer shrugged, crowding behind him and fondling his ass. “I can’t be responsible for the things you make me strip off you in the heat of passion.” He pushed Neal against the wall outside his door and teased with light kisses around his mouth. “I need to get you naked, so badly,” he whispered over Neal’s neck, then he froze, his ear cocked towards the door. “Are you expecting Mozzie?” 

Neal shook his head. He took a step closer and placed an ear to the door. There was someone inside. Spencer flipped around so his back was against the wall next to Neal. Neal put a finger to his lips for Spencer to remain quiet, stood to face the door, and opened it slowly. His heart dropped through the floor, his hand pressed Spencer back against the wall out of sight. “Keller. I thought you were living the high life in a Russian prison, somewhere.”

“What can I say? I got bored. Besides, I figured we were due one of our little chats. You know how it is?”

“Not really.” Neal pressed harder against Spencer’s chest as he made to move into view. “What do you want?”

“The usual. But, come on, the suspense is killing me here.” Keller chuckled. “Who’s hiding outside the door, Caffrey? It can’t be your pet Agent Burke, he’d have busted in and arrested me already.” Keller turned over a blade between his fingers. “Or tried, at least.” Neal ground his teeth together. Keller was in his place, leaning against his window as though he belonged, as though he was welcome. “It can’t be Mozzie. I’d have heard him running back down the stairs by now. Alex is out of the country. By the way, she says she much prefers sex without the chaffing from that tracker of yours.”

Neal took a deep, steadying breath. “How did you get in here?”

“Your lovely landlady happened to be leaving as I arrived, so I let myself in.” At least that meant June was safe. “So, come on, who is it?”

Neal caught Spencer out of the corner of his eye take his gun out of the holster and drop the holster to the floor. He moved away from the wall and placed the hand with his gun at the small of Neal’s back out of Keller’s view before stepping around the edge of the door frame. Neal felt bile rise in his throat as Keller gave Spencer the once over.

“I’m disappointed, Neal. Another fed? And this one’s just a baby, by the looks of it. Did Burke finally have enough of you and palm you off to a new handler?” Neal couldn’t say anything, his throat was too constricted, and all he could see was the knife in Keller’s hands as he pushed off the window frame and stepped closer. “No,” he said, looking Spencer over again. “There’s something different about this one. Oh, don’t tell me you’re sleeping with him, well, well. Who’d have thought, Neal Caffrey with his very own FBI pet. And there I was thinking you spend your days on Burke’s leash, and nights on your knees for him.” Neal felt Spencer tense at his side. “Did you tell your new friend about us?”

“There is no us, there never has been. Now what do you want?”

“It hurts that you would dismiss me so quickly after everything we’ve been through.” Neal couldn’t figure out whether Keller was being serious or tying to poke at Spencer. “I have a little job for you.”

“Not interested.”

“We’ll see about that. What does your FBI boyfriend here think about the latest gig you’re working with Mozzie? It’s a big score, right? Should see you for a few years. It’s a shame you brought the fed.” Keller sat on the edge of the table. “This would have been so much cleaner if you’d been alone.”

“Are you suggesting you’re going to use that knife against one or both of us?” Spencer was totally calm. 

“Ah, it speaks. It looks like I’ll have to. Neal, I need for the next couple of days. You, however,” Keller stood up, “are a complication I just don’t have time for.”

“And I’m right in thinking you’re an escaped convict?”

“From a Russian prison,” Neal said. “But he’s still wanted by the FBI and Interpol.”

“That’s all I needed to know.” Spencer pushed Neal to the side. He heard two shots in short succession as he stumbled, and Keller cried out. He turned around and took in the sight in front of him. Spencer had shot Keller in the thigh, and in the shoulder. The knife lay on the ground at Keller’s feet, and he was doubled over in pain. 

Spencer was already on the phone. He kicked the blade and it skittered across the room away from Keller. “This is SAC Spencer Reid, I need immediate assistance at 87 Riverside Drive. I have apprehended a dangerous fugitive, Matthew Keller…” Neal tuned out and focused on Keller.

“A little help,” Keller said, pressing on his thigh wound. Neal grabbed a towel from the kitchen.

“Neal.” Neal jumped as Spencer shouted. “You do not approach him until he’s cuffed.” Spencer went back to his call requesting EMT’s before hanging up as he moved towards Keller. 

“Cuffs won’t hold me, baby Burke.”

“Good thing I prefer to carry zip ties, then.” Spencer grabbed Keller roughly and spun him around. He cuffed Keller’s hands behind his back, with Keller crying out in pain as his shoulder was pulled. He fell to his knees.

“Who the hell is this guy, Caffrey?”

Spencer huffed. “I can see why Morgan prefers to go for the kill shot. You don’t have to listen to them whining.” Spencer forced Keller back to his feet. “All you need to know is that I’m the guy looking after Neal, so you need to think long and hard before dropping in unannounced in the future. Do I make myself clear?” Keller chuffed a laugh and Spencer twisted Keller around, so his weight fell on his injured leg. Keller growled though gritted teeth. “I said, do I make myself clear?”

“Crystal, fuck, okay.” 

“Why didn’t you go for the kill shot?” Neal asked. Everything was so surreal, it seemed like a sensible question and he needed to know…if Spencer would.

“If he had a gun, rather than a knife, I would have.” 

“You’ll wish you had,” Keller said with a false bravado that wasn’t fooling anyone. “I have a very long reach.”

Spencer took the towel still hanging from Neal’s hand and pressed it into Keller’s shoulder. “Let me tell you one of things I do for the FBI.” He pressed harder and Neal could see tears in Keller’s eyes. “I track and apprehend psychotic murderers, serial killers. It takes a special kind of skill because you see the deepest, darkest, halls of the human psyche.” Spencer removed the towel and pressed it against Keller’s thigh. Keller gritted his teeth. “I have to get inside their minds. Think how they think, see what they see, until I know what they’re going to do before they do.” Another surge of pressure against the wound and Keller whimpered, he was sweating. Neal didn’t know whether to be afraid, afraid of what Spencer was capable of, or thoroughly impressed. Probably a bit of both. “I’ve learned the very best ways to dispose of bodies, and an untold number of ways to inflict levels of pain you can only imagine.”

“What is your point?” Keller spat out.

Spencer stroked a hand over Keller’s chest, and straightened his shirt. “If you, or anyone you know,” his voice was ice-cold, “anyone you have ever had a conversation with, or the hint of a conversation with through third parties comes anywhere near Neal, June, or anyone they know, myself included, “ he leaned in close to Keller’s ear, “I will hunt you down—and there is no place on this earth you can hide from me—and I will make you pay tenfold for every ounce of pain you cause, and you will wish I had gone for the kill shot and sent you to hell rather than live through what I will have planned for you.” Keller shuddered, and, yeah, Neal was a little scared himself, but also completely in awe. “And you should know, I work in a team. Try to get rid of me, and another one takes my place.”

There was a moment of eerie silence and then the first agents arrived followed by EMT’s and they readied Keller to take him away. “Tell Burke to come back, all is forgiven. I miss him, Caffrey. I’m not so keen on your new psycho fed.”

Spencer placed a hand on Neal’s shoulder and Neal could feel his hands shaking. “Neal, are you okay?”

“Yeah, I…you were amazing. Are you okay?”

“Stay close a minute?” Neal nodded. He was feeling woozy. What would have happened if Spencer hadn’t been with him? Keller would have kidnapped him. Again. Wouldn’t have hesitated to kill anyone who’d been with him who couldn’t defend themselves like Spencer could. What if Spencer had taken off his gun and left it on the stairs as Neal had asked? 

He realised why Spencer asked him to stay, when one of the agents started to take Spencer’s statement. Neal listened carefully, taking note of the key points. Fugitive. Home invasion. Waiting inside the property. Armed with a knife. When he realised Spencer was an agent threatened bodily harm to Neal, and to kill Spencer. No choice but to take him down. 

The agent also asked why Spencer didn’t shoot to kill after being threatened, though Neal thought it was out of interest rather than necessity. Immobilising target more appropriate given the suspect’s weapon and distance. Neal’s phone rang, and he answered it without thinking. 

“I just heard.” Peter. Damn it.

“Peter, I’m fine”

“It’s really Keller? They dispatched EMT’s.”

“Spencer shot him.”

“He took down Keller on his own?”

“What can I say? He’s bad ass.” Spencer looked over and grinned at him, and Neal found he smiled in return.

“This isn’t a joke, Neal. You could have been killed. You both could have been killed. I’m on my way over.”

“Will you relax. Spencer took care of it.”

“He does realise he’s not your handler, doesn’t he?”

“You’re being ridiculous.”

“Am I? Are you sure he’s not working you to join his team?”

“Look, I’ll see you tomorrow.” If there was one thing Neal couldn’t deal with right now, it was Peter’s new and annoying insecurities over anything even remotely related to Spencer. 

Spencer placed his hand over Neal’s. “Let me speak to him.” Neal happily handed over the phone. “Thank you for checking in, Peter, it’s really good of you. Yes, Neal is fine. A little shaken maybe, after finding Keller in the apartment. No, there’s no need to come over. I’m actually going to take Neal to my place.” Spencer sighed. “He said he’d see you tomorrow.” Spencer handed the phone back to Neal. “You know,” he said to Neal, “you and Peter do have history with Keller. If you prefer to talk things through with him…”

Neal shook his head and took the phone. “Peter, I just want to spend a quiet night with Spencer. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“I have the right to come and check on you.”

“Enough, god. What’s wrong with you?”

“You’re sure you’re okay? He’s not manipulating you?”

“Goodnight, Peter.” Neal hung up. During the call the room had started to empty out. Keller was gone, the EMT’s with him. There was one agent, and one guy left cleaning up the drops of blood on the floor. “I uh, I think I’d prefer to stay with you a few days, if that’s okay?” 

Spencer pulled him into a hug and Neal rested his head on Spencer’s shoulder. He was suddenly tired. “We should check on June first,” Spencer said. “Make sure she has someone to stay with her. Get the locks checked.”

“I’ll call Moz, he’ll sleep over here tonight.” 

“Mr Caffrey,” the agent said, and Neal turned in Spencer’s arms and leaned back against him. Neal didn’t recognise the guy. “I just need to take your statement…if you feel up to it.” Wow, he’d never been treated with such respect from the FBI before. The agent eyed Spencer nervously. Ah, of course, Spencer carried serious weight in these circles. When Neal didn’t say anything, the guy looked at Spencer. “Should I wait until tomorrow for the statement, sir?”

“You don’t need to call me sir.” Spencer rubbed his hands over Neal’s upper arms. “Neal?” 

“I’m fine.” He repeated the statement Spencer had given, but in his own words. Added a few extras—it all happened so fast, I thought he was going to attack, Keller has tried to kill me before—and it was done, and they were alone. A few more calls to get things sorted for June and Moz, and it was finally over.

“What Keller said…” Neal stepped in close, placed a hand over Spencer’s heart. “About me planning a job with Moz…”

“I’m a profiler, Neal. I can tell when people are stretching the truth to push for a reaction.”

“We still talk about a last big score, but it’s just that…talk.”

“I know, it’s okay. Keller was saying it as much to gage from you whether you actually were planning something as he was to rile me.”

“I’ve never understood what Keller’s problem is with me.”

“Really? Maybe you’re too close to it. From where I stand, it’s very clear.” Spencer nuzzled against Neal’s neck, the hot breath of his skin sent sparks though his body. “He wants to be you,” Spencer said. “He wants to have you.”

“We never…”

“Doesn’t mean he didn’t want to. Still wants to. But he’s too late…” Spencer kissed over Neal’s neck to his jaw. “Because you’re mine.”

Neal’s legs felt like jelly. “I am yours. Always. God, I love you, Spencer.”

“Mm, just what I like to hear.” Spencer squeezed, kissed Neal’s cheeks. “What say you to heading over to my place and finishing what we started before we were so rudely interrupted?”

“I’ll pack a bag.”

Neal grabbed a few things while Spencer watched him, a small smile playing around the edges of his mouth. It was funny, really, most people saw Spencer as quiet, submissive, nerdy, easily pushed around, and at times in his life he had been exactly that, but with Neal… With Neal he was strong, dependable, an iron fist of protection. His was a deep strength built of passion and love, shaped by the darkness his heart had endured, yet still bright like the fire of a thousand suns. He’d stepped up as Neal’s hero. Again. Neal’s heart fluttered as he glanced over to where Spencer waited patiently, all long lean limbs, and intense looks, and he swallowed hard. His heart felt fit to burst, he loved him so much. And then he remembered…

“What you said…to Keller.”

“About?”

“The things you know…”

Spencer smiled. “I’m sorry if I scared you. It’s all just part of the talk down.”

“You made it up?”

“Not exactly. I do know those things, but I would never become someone who would do those things. Does it bother you, that I said it?”

“No, I…I thought you were brilliant. I just wondered, that was all.”

“So you don’t have any bodies you need to dispose of?”

Neal laughed. “Not for the moment. But I’ll keep your hidden skillset in mind should that ever change.”

“So we’re okay?”

Neal stroked a hand over Spencer’s hair and cupped his cheek. “More than okay. I’m ready.” He smiled as Spencer took his bag and lead him out of the room with a hand at the small of his back. Spencer liked to take a dominant role in the relationship. Even when they were dancing, it was Neal who was thrown around and flipped upside down, though that may have more to do with Spencer’s height advantage. What was interesting was that Neal found he liked it. After years of taking the lead and playing the role of perfect gentleman, he was enjoying being pampered. He still took his turn to take care of Spencer, but it was nice to change it up, to know there was someone, a special someone, who wanted to make the world right, just for him. It was empowering. Uplifting. All those years of chasing dreams and fortunes…and all it took was a single smile from Spencer to make Neal feel like the richest man alive.


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Because I really want a Wedgwood blue leather couch...  
> ...and I can't decide whether Peter is a good guy or a bad guy when it comes to our boys. He keeps flip flopping around on me.

Spencer’s apartment was as different from Neal’s as any could be except for two things. A large wall of windows, and a large wall of books. The windows were modern and didn’t have the view or the terrace Neal’s had, but the view wasn’t bad. The buildings opposite looked okay, and trees lining the wide street allowed an element of privacy should they choose to wander the apartment naked—which they did. Often. 

The wall of books would put any library to shame, in topics so varied it made Neal’s head spin to think all those words were in Spencer’s brain waiting for the day he could say ‘did you know’ and follow it with something wonderfully insightful. The main bookcases housed Spencer’s favourites, some of them first editions, some showing signs of being well-read. There were other cupboards and tables throughout the apartment filled with books he had finished and was due to return to the library, recently purchased and yet to read, recently read and waiting to find a new home either in the main bookcase, or at a second-hand shop where he’d trade them in for new titles. It would take Neal years to read a fraction of the books Spencer owned, but he was making an attempt, starting with the favourites.

The rest of the apartment was bright and airy, much like Neal’s, but the floors were tiled in a dark and stormy natural slate with mismatched rugs thrown haphazardly about the place. The kitchen was sleek and modern. High gloss cream cabinets with the handles built in and pale granite worktops, stainless steel fitted appliances, and an aqua coloured glass splash back. The living area was dominated by a large, comfortable leather couch in Wedgewood blue, a heavy wooden coffee table, and a couple of odd low chairs in muted neutral prints. Spencer had said it was the complete opposite of his DC home, which had been all dark colours and antique furniture. He’d loved it but wanted a fresh start with everything. New home, new mindset. 

Neal’s favourite rooms were the bedroom and the bathroom. Spencer’s bathroom was…big. The large walk in shower had an overhead spray and wall jets, Unusually for an apartment of the size where space was a premium, there was a separate deep soak bath, extra wide, and extra-long, with a hydro setting for bubbles. The bath had sealed the deal for Spencer. He wasn’t bothered about any of the other highlights, just the bath. The bedroom contained overflow bookcases, a walk-in closet, and a low lying wooden bed with a leather headboard and matching low leather bedside tables. Neal was particularly fond of the metal posts edging the leather, perfect for holding on to when they turned up the heat or broke out a few accessories. He wondered if the Bureau knew the reason Spencer carried zip ties rather than cuffs these days was because his cuffs were stashed in his bedside drawer. After all, zip ties chaffed. But the very best part of Spencer’s apartment, the thing Neal loved most, more than the shower, or the bath, or the metal rails on the bed, was the mirrored doors on the walk-in closet. Running parallel with the length of the bed.

He didn’t think of himself as an voyeur, he liked to keep their private time, very private, and he wasn't one for watching, not even good quality porn. But there was something raw and heady about watching the performance as Spencer ploughed into him from behind or rode him hard…being able to watch the ever-changing forms of Spencer’s expressive features as he writhed and bucked in their ecstatic dance of love. 

They were both creative in the bedroom, ever pushing boundaries and stretching out their pleasure, and Neal loved the times they could spend hours in bed working and reworking their bodies to exhaustion, loud and slick, and sweaty. But the best times, the times that touched the deepest parts of his heart, and mind, dare he say it, even to the core of his being—his soul—were times like this very moment. The slow, deliberate movements, the quiet, breathy whimpers, the deep guttural moans drawn out over soft lips and fast beating hearts. The intensity in Spencer’s eyes as he searched Neal’s face for the right angle, the right pressure, pushing deeper, climbing higher, grasping at each other, desperate and clawing to be closer, for more and more until the spiral begins and Neal has to pull Spencer to him, to kiss, frantic and needy because really, what more could he ever want in life than this…

…and then he’s falling, his whole body tensing like a live wire and Spencer is still moving, pushing Neal’s orgasm up through his body, thrusts erratic as he peaks and slows, and Neal could stay here forever with Spencer deep inside him, and they do for a while, sloppy kisses, and catching breath. They dispensed with condoms a few weeks ago after getting the all clear from every test known to man, a first for both of them without that layer of protection, and the heightening of the intimacy had shocked them both and amplified…everything. 

Spencer settled behind Neal, wrapping him up as the little spoon, slipping back inside before fully softening, both over sensitive, but needing to stay close. And Neal drifted off to sleep with Spencer’s soft kisses on his neck and whispered affirmations of deep abiding love. 

 

Neal startled awake. “What the…?” Spencer grumbled and rolled over. For a genius, he was not a morning person. Not that it was morning, quite yet. The noise that woke Neal—Spencer’s phone clattering across the tiled floor, started up again. Neal took a look at Spencer…there was no way he was going to get up to answer it, and Neal reluctantly slipped out of bed just as the first signs of early morning sun were peeking through the windows. He grimaced at the state of himself, all dried lube and caked on come, but grabbed the phone off the floor. Garcia. He answered immediately. 

“Reid, oh, thank god.”

“It’s Neal, I’ll just wake him for you. Is everything okay?”

“No, sugar bear, things are not okay in DC land. I really need boy wonder.”

Spencer sat up abruptly, and Neal would have laughed at his dishevelled bedhead and pouty face had Garcia not been so worried. A short explanation and Neal handed him the phone. Spencer went from groggy to alert in the time it took him to say ‘Garcia, calm down’. A short, tense conversation followed that Neal didn’t really catch much of as Spencer started to pace, but he did hear the last thing. Spencer glanced at Neal, and then said, “I’m on my way.” He hung up and took a deep breath. 

‘I’m on my way’—to DC—where Neal couldn’t follow. Neal felt sick. It felt like a lifetime had passed before Spencer looked at him again, though it was barely a few seconds.

“There’s been an incident. In the field. Morgan was badly injured. He’s in the hospital and he’s asking for me.” Spencer sat on the bed next to Neal and took his hand. “Neal, I have to go.”

“Of course, you do, I wouldn’t expect you not to.” Morgan, who the hell was Morgan. And then he remembered. Morgan was the guy Spencer had said he’d crushed on so hard he actually thought he was in love with him. But he wasn’t. Apparently. Neal had no evidence as to whether Morgan was ever in love with Spencer. Other than the obvious. Who else would you ask for from your hospital bed, other than a special loved one…the one who got away.

“I can call Hughes,” Spencer said. “Ask if you can come with me.”

“Spencer, it’s okay. There’s going to come a time soon when you’ll have to work away. I may as well get used to it.” Spencer frowned. Oh, yeah, he was seeing right through Neal’s brave face, but he couldn’t not visit his friend when Morgan was asking for him, when it could be the last time…

“I’ll be home tonight.” 

“Spencer…”

“It’s only 5am, I can easily get there and get home in time to pick you up at the office.” Oh, yeah, because Neal wouldn’t be allowed to go beyond his radius to Spencer’s if Spencer wasn’t actually with him.

“You may need to stay.”

“I won’t. He’s asked for me, and I will see him, but regardless of how serious it is…my place is here with you.” He kissed Neal’s forehead. “I love you.” Neal tried for a smile but failed. Luckily, he did keep the tears threatening to fall at bay. Spencer looked down at his stomach and screwed up his face. “I need to shower.”

Neal blinked hard a few times, trying to keep a lid on everything. “I’ll brew some coffee.”

 

With Spencer gone, there was nothing for Neal to do other than get ready and head into work. He groaned, remembering how tetchy Peter had been about the whole Keller thing. Great. Add to that the thirty-minute journey through traffic when he could usually walk in fifteen, and Neal was feeling a little delicate by the time he reached the office.

Peter was already in and wearing his ‘lemons for breakfast’ face. Neal couldn’t summon the energy or the inclination to put on his fake smile and hide his woes. He didn’t even go to the coffee machine, his usual morning ritual. Instead, he slumped onto his chair and stared at the blank monitor in front of him. What the hell was wrong with him? He’d been away from Spencer longer than a day. It had only been a week or two ago since they’d spent whole nights and a full working day apart, sometimes two working days dependent on cases. But since Spencer had registered his address with the Marshall’s, which was about the same time they stopped using condoms, they had been together every night after work. Slept in the same bed, even when they hadn’t had sex—which okay, wasn’t often, but still…and yet Neal felt as though someone had cut off the head of his favourite teddy and stuffed it in the garbage disposal. They had been dating less than two months. He was officially pathetic.

He didn’t know how long he’d been sat there staring, before a cup of coffee appeared in his line of sight. He looked up to see Peter, his features softened, and a little fond, no lemons in sight. “You want to talk about it?”

Neal huffed. No, he didn’t. But he also didn’t want to sit and stare into space all day either. “Spencer has been called back to DC. One of his friends is in hospital, it sounded serious.”

“An accident?”

“Injured in the field.”

“Come on, let’s go to my office.”

Sullen. That was the word that described his mood. Sullen. He knew the what, now he needed to figure out the why. 

Peter put the cups on his desk and took his seat. Neal closed the door and sat opposite. “When did he leave?”

“Early this morning.”

“And you miss him already, huh?”

“I know it’s stupid, I just…I feel like I can’t breathe.”

Peter shook his head. “I’m still like that every time Elizabeth travels for work, and that’s after ten years.”

“Is that supposed to make me feel better, because it’s not working. Just so you know.”

“It’s just how it is, Neal, when you love someone.” They sat, Neal staring at his coffee cup, and Peter staring at Neal. “I’ll speak to Hughes. See if we can’t arrange a special circumstance pass or something for you to go to DC.”

“No, Peter, it’s fine. I…” Wait, since when had Peter started to be so helpful? He shook off the creeping feeling he was missing something bigger. “He said he’ll be back tonight, I just…I feel so useless.” And there was the why. Spencer needed him, and he was stuck here, no wriggle room, no way out.

“Tonight? That doesn’t give much time.”

“If Spencer says he’ll be back, he will.” Neal said it as much because he needed to hear it, than for Peter. 

“What if he has to go back…heaven forbid, but you never know. He’ll need you with him.”

“Nah, it’s life, right? I should just suck it up and get on with work.” He huffed. “It’s just that with the whole Keller thing yesterday…” and then Neal cringed, because he’d wanted to avoid that can of worms.

“About that…” Peter gave a bashful smile. “I wanted to apologise for the way I was on the phone. I was just worried.”

“I know. It’s fine.”

“No, it’s not. I acted as though you two went out and tracked Keller down rather than having to deal with a spur of the moment situation.” Peter reached over the table and placed a hand over Neal’s where he held his mug. “I’m just glad Spencer was with you.”

Okay, and since when did Peter touching him make him feel so uncomfortable? Neal slipped his hand away with the pretence of drinking his coffee. “Not as glad as I am. You know, I have so many people break into June’s and to be waiting for me, even a few with guns, but that’s the first time I’ve felt really scared.”

“Maybe June should look at her security.”

“I’ve got Moz on it. Not that it would have mattered in Keller’s case. He made it clear he was going to take out anyone who was in the way.” And that didn’t even bare thinking about.

“We both know he’s capable. Luckily, so is Spencer.”

And Neal smiled for the first time that day. “You should have seen him, Peter. He took it all in his stride, not a flinch or hesitation from Keller’s threats.”

“That will be the BAU field experience. Most people think they sit at desks, and talk to lunatics over loudspeakers, but there’s a reason they’re classed as an elite team.” There was genuine respect in Peter’s voice, and Neal relaxed. “Did Keller give any details at all about the job he wanted you for?”

“No. I think he was waiting to get Spencer out of the way first. It must be something big though if he was willing to kill an agent up front. Are you going to ask him about it?”  
“In a day or so, once he’s out of the hospital and back behind bars.” Peter hesitated to say something else, and Neal picked up he was nervous. 

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I…Hughes is retiring. End of next month.” It was so far out of left field Neal couldn’t rally his thoughts. “Hughes wants me to take over White Collar.”

Neal straightened in his seat. “Peter, that’s brilliant. You deserve it.” But he didn’t look happy. “Is there a catch?”

“No, no…but when they reviewed my file in consideration for the position they decided they may have something else for me.” He looked directly at Neal. “In DC.”

“Oh…wow. Congratulations.”

“I haven’t decided what to do yet. It’s a new position, liaising with White Collar divisions all over the country to help streamline the system.”

“The ultimate White Collar supervisor, huh? Sounds great.” Except where did that leave Neal? “You don’t seem anywhere near excited enough.”

“It’s Elle. I don’t want to uproot her to a new city from everything she knows only to be travelling around the country and leaving her in DC alone.”

“Not an idea situation. Especially from where I’m sitting. But what does Elizabeth think?”

“She doesn’t know yet. They called me this morning.” Peter looked past Neal and waved. Neal turned to see Jones open the office door. 

“Peter, there’s been a robbery. A…” Jones looked at the piece of paper he was holding, “Joan Mitchell painting from a private collection here in New York.”

“Joan Mitchell.” Neal whistled but Peter shrugged. “You never heard of…” Neal sighed. “One of the most celebrated and prolific female artists of the 21st Century. Second generation American Abstract Expressionist. Here vivid use of colour is exquisite, highly emotional. One of her pieces recently sold for $12 million.” 

Peter smiled. “Let’s go take a look.”

 

The day went by considerably faster with something to occupy his mind. Looking at potential entry ways, security bypassed, alarmed frame…a highly skilled job, for sure. It was almost noon by the time his phone rang. He excused himself, as Peter went over everything one more time with the home owners.

“Hey, how is he?”

“Neal, I’m so sorry.” 

Neal’s heart sank. “You can’t make it home?”

“What? Oh, no, it’s fine. He rallied while I was on the plane and is doing well. I believe it was touch and go for a while. I’m sorry I left you when there was no real urgency after all.”

Neal let out the breath he’d been holding, waiting for the bad news. “I’m so glad he’s okay.”

“I’m going to spend an hour with Henry while I’m here, but I should be back at the office by six at the latest.”

“I miss you.”

“God, I miss you too. It’s so crazy, I feel like someone has ripped out my insides.”

“Me too. I thought I was going to cry when Peter asked me what was wrong.”

Spencer chuckled. “How is he, this morning? Did he give you much grief about Keller?”

“He apologised.”

“Again. How thoughtful.”

“Listen, I’m at a crime scene. I feel so much better now I know everything is okay.”

“Okay. I’ll see you soon. Have fun catching the bad guys, and remember, I love you.”

“I love you, too. Travel safe.”

“Everything okay?” Neal turned at the sound of Peter’s voice.

“Yeah, not as serious as first thought. He’ll be back later.”

“Good. Let’s get back to work.”


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Explicit warning.

It was barely five o’clock when Spencer texted to say he was back on the nineteenth floor checking in with the team. The sense of relief Neal had was palpable. 

There were no leads so far on the painting. Moz was putting out feelers, while Neal and Peter were looking into whether Keller’s appearance could have been connected. So far, they hadn’t been able to track his movements prior to ending up at Neal’s. He hadn’t been carrying any ID, so they didn’t know the alias he was travelling under, and from Peter’s conversations with the State Department, it seemed the Russians were under the impression Keller was still in his cell. They had sent someone off to double check and would be back in touch. 

“I’m not sure there’s much more we can do today,” Peter said, looking at his watch. “Why don’t you head off. Check in with Spencer, and I’ll see you bright and early tomorrow.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah, go on. Jones and I can handle the little we do have from here.”

“At least I have an alibi for this one, right?” It wasn’t really a joke. Neal had caught Peter checking his tracking data from midnight through to seven that morning. He hadn’t let on he knew what Peter was doing. It was his own fault for saying Spencer had left so early. Peter was naturally suspicious—potentially what made him so good at his job—so to admit, albeit before the crime had been reported, that he had opportunity was bound to raise a flag. 

“Yes, you do, and that is always a good thing. Listen, why don’t you and Spencer come to dinner at the weekend?”

“Uh, any particular occasion?”

“No. Just think of it as bonding. Elle did love the dancing the other week but watching all that turning and flipping made me dizzy.”

Abstract. Potentially worrying. “Okay. I’ll ask him.”

“Great. See you tomorrow.” Neal buried the niggling feeling he was missing something and made his way to the Think-Tank Bat Cave.

 

Spencer had his head buried in a very large file. He looked up when Neal walked into the bull pen and smiled. All was right in Neal’s world. “Peter let you out early for good behaviour?”

“I think it’s more a case of Peter looking into a lead he doesn’t want me to know about.”

“Oh?”

“He’s being cagey.” Neal sat on the desk next to Spencer’s file, and Spencer took hold of Neal’s knees to pull himself on his wheelie chair between Neal’s legs. Neal smoothed a hand over Spencer’s hair, still a little wild from this morning. “He dropped a bombshell earlier. Hughes is retiring soon and wants Peter to take over.”

“That’s a good thing, isn’t it?”

“Potentially. Peter is still invested in my deal as far as I’m aware. But they also offered him a position in DC. And if he takes it…there’s no guarantee the next ASAC will be interested in keeping me around.”

“They can’t just send you back to prison, you only have, what, three months left?”

“Nearer four. But that’s the point, though. They can send me back. Peter could wake up tomorrow and decide he’s had enough. I’m always one phone call away from being back in jail and there’s nothing I can do about it.”

Spencer chewed on his lip. “Garcia’s a bit caught up with Morgan at the moment, but I’ll focus on our case precedent later. I know we’re close to being able to submit paperwork.”

“It would only be about a month left by the time he left for DC. I guess it wouldn’t be so bad, and at least I know there is a definite release date from jail. I have no idea how my deal ends as it stands. How is Morgan, anyway?”

The grip Spencer had on his knees tightened. “Neal, I’m not going to let you go back to prison.”

“You may not have a choice.”

“There is always a choice. I can sign you up to my team. It’ll just mean we can’t have sex until your sentence is up.”

“Not have sex. For a whole month.”

“It’s not as though we’d be having sex if you were in jail, and at least you won’t run the risk of being raped every day working here.”

“Point.” Neal smoothed away the worry lines from Spencer’s forehead. “I’m sorry I come with so much baggage.”

“Everyone has baggage. At least yours has reasonable guidelines and procedures.”

“And that is one of the many reasons why I love you.” Neal kissed the top of his head. “You always turn the nightmares into something positive to work with.”

“It doesn’t matter what we have to face, Neal. You will always be worth it.” And that was the one thing Neal had never had before. From anyone. To be worth it. To be enough to keep on pushing through the crap. For them to stay. 

“Are you able to leave, or shall I go back to June’s for a while?”

“I didn’t start anything important. Just checking over some potential work for the coming months.”

“Anything good?”

“Yes, actually. I think they have a historic serial kidnapper of young boys in Maryland. They’ve never found any of the victims despite the ransoms being paid in a couple of instances.”

“Echoes of the BAU?”

Spencer smiled. “I’ve been assisting the local team here on occasion. Just consulting. It’s a difficult skill to turn off. But enough of work. Let’s head home.” 

Home. Together. To one apartment. Neal liked the sound of that.” Should we get take out on the way, or is it too early for you to eat?”

Spencer grinned. “I can always eat.” He started to pack away the files on his desk and lock his cabinets. “Did you have something in mind?”

“Other than thoroughly ravishing you? I thought maybe Chinese.”

“Both sound good. There’s a great place just around the corner from the apartment. The Jade Palace.”

“Wonderful.” Spencer checked in with the team and said his goodbyes as Neal hung back, just waving through the window. “Hey,” he said, when Spencer returned. “Did I ever tell you about that case I had with Peter where we returned five elephants made from Imperial Jade to the Japanese government?” 

“You did. Because it was one of the many times you were kidnapped.” Spencer steered Neal towards the elevators. “And one of the times Peter assumed you’d run. And one of the many times you had an armed aggressor waiting in your apartment.”

“Oh, yeah. Covers a lot of bases that one.”

“Makes me wonder whether I should start looking at vacancies for baristas in the local area. A much safer profession.” Spencer frowned. “Though you’d potentially attract a lot of attention. I could imagine queues a mile long of eager young men and women waiting for a glimpse of that smile.” They stepped into the waiting elevator. 

“You flatter me too much.” The doors closed, and Spencer pulled Neal into a kiss. 

“Never enough.”

 

“I’m still not sure how you got this place for such a reasonable rate.” It was a nice apartment. Neal didn’t know much about Spencer’s financial status, but he was pretty sure it was out of the usual price range for an FBI agent. 

“I’ve told you before.” Spencer held open the front door to the building for Neal to walk through. “You’re not the only one with charm.” Ah, and of course, Spencer wasn’t just any FBI agent. He was SAC for an elite team of fixers. He was probably taking home a bit more than Jones. Maybe even more than Peter, come to that.

“I know you have ample charm. I fell for it, after all.” He followed Spencer up the two flights of stairs. “Do every day, in fact. You didn’t actually say how Morgan was getting on earlier.” Spencer paused outside his front door, his previously relaxed demeanour on high alert. He turned to Neal, gestured for him to be quiet, and unholstered his gun. Neal placed the bag of Chinese food on the floor. Surely this couldn’t be happening again. And if it wasn’t Keller—which is couldn’t be, what with the bullet wounds and all—who the hell else would it be?

Spencer turned the key, took hold of the door handle and opened it slowly, gun held high. He swept the hall, crept further in to the apartment, turned into the living room and sighed. 

“I’m unarmed.” Mozzie squeaked. 

Neal charged in, as Spencer holstered his weapon. “Mozzie, what the hell? Spencer could have shot you.”

“In hindsight, not the best idea I’ve had. But in my defence, I was checking the security of your new part-time home.”

Spencer came in with the food and placed it on the kitchen counter. “Which is not what it should be, by the looks of it.” He started to lay out the cartons. 

“There are some improvements to be made. Your neighbour let me in the front door without a second glance as she left. Your front door is passable, but given enough time... I have to say I am impressed however, by how long it took me to actually find out where you lived. How did you know I was in here?”

“An old trick from when I was younger, living with my mom. She could never remember if she locked the front door, and we came home one day to find we’d been burgled. Now I always know if someone has opened the front door after I’ve locked it.”

“Nice.” Mozzie eyed the containers. “Oo, mushu pork? I brought wine.”

“You brought wine?” Neal checked the bottle on the coffee table. “You brought my wine.”

“Of course.” Mozzie grabbed a container and a set of chopsticks.

 

They settled around the coffee table with food and drinks, Spencer with his favourite Elderflower Pressé rather than alcohol, and sitting cross-legged on the couch with his dinner between his knees, and Neal next to him. It was easy company after a stressful few days. 

“You’re not going to use chopsticks?” Mozzie stared at the fork in Spencer’s hand.

“Not if I actually want to eat anything. I know how to use them in theory, but in practise it never works out.”

“I can empathise. I had the same problem for a number of years, until I lived near China town for an extended period.”

“Spencer, is it safe to actually ask you how Morgan is?” Spencer frowned at Neal. “I’ve asked twice today but both times you didn’t get a chance to answer.” Spencer sighed. “Am I to take that as meaning you don’t want to?”

“No, it’s just…”

Moz looked between them. “Should I leave?”

“No,” they both said together. Spencer smiled. “It’s just complicated. With Morgan. And…I didn’t tell anyone.” He stared into his food container. “About us.”

“Is there a reason for that?” Neal waited, desperate to hear some evidence to suggest it wasn’t because Spencer was ashamed of him, embarrassed at dating a criminal.

“It’s just…I don’t want them knowing about my private life. My new life. Not yet. They won’t…"

“You think they won’t understand?”

“I know they won’t understand, but it’s more than that. They don’t get me, Neal. They never have. I don’t think they ever really wanted to. Garcia and Hotch know, and that’s good, that’s comfortable. The others don’t need to know. They treated me like an overgrown child when I worked with them. Teased me at the slightest hint of any interested party. It’s the reason I didn’t tell them about Maeve initially. Alex was always very supportive, but the others…”

Mozzie raised his hand. “Maeve?”

“Spencer’s version of Kate.”

“Hopefully not with death by firebomb in front of you?”

Neal winced, but Spencer didn’t as much as flinch. “Death by psychotic stalker. But, yes, in front of me.” Mozzie mouthed, rather than said ‘oh’, and returned to his mushu pork. “I will have the conversation with J.J. soon, but only because Garcia is going to bring Henry to stay. J.J. and Will, that’s her husband,” he said to Moz, “have a right to know who else will be in the apartment when he’s here.”

“And Henry is?”

“Spencer’s Godson. He’s five?”

“Oh, a fresh young mind to educate. I’ll draw up a suitable itinerary of the appropriate sights. Does he have any particular interests?”

“Moz…” Neal wanted to hear about Morgan, not make plans for visitors.

“He likes the usual, dinosaurs, cars…oh, and planets. Anything to do with space. I bought him a telescope just before I left DC. He loves it.”

“Excellent. I’ll make sure to include the planetarium.”

“Now they’ve lifted our ban,” Neal added.

“You were banned from the planetarium?”

“Along with Satchmo, the suits dog.” Mozzie chuckled.

“Morgan?”

Spencer straightened his legs, put down his food and reached for his drink. “He thinks he’s in love with me. He’s not,” Spencer added quickly. “He’s frustrated I’ve cut contact with him. Morgan’s a control freak. He hates that any communication is on my terms. But you know, he was never actually very nice to me.” 

“Pulling pigtails?” Neal suggested.

“No, he was always telling me how I needed to be different if I expected anyone to want to be with me. He’d roll his eyes when I offered facts about a case. He refused to share a room with me if we had to double up during a case because he finds me annoying. And when he found out about Maeve…he and J.J., actually, were dismissive…didn’t think it meant anything…assumed she was playing me when we had to look into her life after she was kidnapped.” He looked so sad when he met Neal’s eyes. “They don’t deserve to know about this, to know about us. I don’t want them to sully it just because they think I’m not capable of a relationship.”

“Do you think Morgan will like me?”

Spencer snorted a laugh. “Not a chance. If, and it’s a big if, he actually takes his head out of his ass for long enough to get to know you, he will love you. And not just because I do. He’ll appreciate your sense of style, your sense of humour…”

“But it’s going to be a challenge is what you’re saying.”

Spencer waved his fork. “I have no intentions for the two of you to meet any time soon, so it’s a moot point.”

“But he’s okay?”

Spencer smiled. “He’s okay and should make a full recovery. The bullet nicked an artery, and they didn’t realise the first time they operated. They almost lost him.”

“And he confessed his undying love for you?”

“Not quite. More a case of…I didn’t know how much you meant to me until you weren’t there, kind of thing.”

“Why do they do that?” Mozzie said, making Neal and Spencer startle. “While you’re there it’s like you’re completely invisible. You move on, and all of a sudden they can’t breathe without you. It’s the worst example of narcissistic love. They don’t miss you, they miss your adoration.”

“That was very specific, Moz. Is there something you’d like to share?”

Mozzie shook his head. “Carry on.”

“You said Peter was being cagey,” Spencer said, settling back in with his food. “Is it just about the case, or in general?”

“Both. And he’s invited us to dinner again at the weekend. For a bonding session.”

“And you don’t buy it?”

“Not for a second.”

“Neal, the suit has always blown hot and cold with you,” Mozzie topped off his glass. “One minute he’s putting his job on the line to save you, the next he’s doing everything in his power to catch you out and send you back to prison. I get whiplash. It’s unsettling.”

“That’s why we need to get Neal out from under his thumb,” Spencer said to Mozzie. He turned to Neal. “I don’t know how you’ve been able to live with such uncertainty all these years. It would drive me crazy.”

“What other choice have I had?”

“Maybe we should invite them here for dinner instead, control the narrative for a change.”

Neal thought about it for a moment. “I’m not sure I want to share this with Peter. I like the idea he’s never been here.” Spencer nodded, and patted Neal’s thigh. 

“What’s your ideal future?” Mozzie asked Neal. “If you could have anything, how will your life look in six months?”

“I’ll be here,” Neal grinned, “with Spencer.”

“That’s a given. Tell me something I don’t know.”

“Okay, um… I’ll be working as a civilian consultant to White Collar doing the same as I am now but getting paid a decent salary instead of the $3 an hour I get currently.”

“And if that isn’t possible?”

“I think I’d make a pretty good barista.” Mozzie and Spencer laughed. “What? Wouldn’t it brighten your day to get your coffee from me?”

“Like I said, there would be queues a mile long.”

“But that would be good for business.”

“And bad for my nerves. I’d be too worried some hot young thing would steal you away from me.”

“That’s not going to happen,” Mozzie said before Neal could say anything. “Believe me, I’ve known Neal long enough to understand his heart, and you my friend, are the one. Bar a zombie apocalypse, Neal will follow you around forever like your very own puppy dog.”

“Moz, come on, puppy dog?”

“I don’t have a problem with that analogy.” Spencer was grinning, but the look in his eyes…Neal blushed. There were hot, naughty things going on in Spencer’s beautiful brain. 

“And that may be my cue to leave.”

“You don’t have to.” Spencer peeled his gaze away from Neal. “You’re welcome to stay, actually. The couch is very comfortable.”

“The night is still young, and so am I. I’ll see you guys soon. Oh, and I’ll be back in a few days to install extra security so try not to shoot me.”

Mozzie finished the last of the wine before he left, and Spencer cleared everything away while Neal saw him out. Spencer was stood by the sink when Neal returned, and he stepped up behind and wrapped his arms around Spencer’s waist. “You like the idea that I’ll follow you around for ever, or that I’m your puppy?” He kissed Spencer’s shoulder and up to his neck, and Spencer dropped his head to the side to give Neal better access. 

“Both.” He voice was rough, and breathy. 

Neal slipped his hands over Spencer’s hips and forward to his crotch, stroking over his thickening cock. Spencer’s cock was like the rest of him, a work of art. Neal loved to stroke it, to have it in his hand, his ass, his mouth… He reached for Spencer’s fly, unzipping slowly, and Spencer turned in his arms and kissed him hard and hungry. Neal made short work of Spencer’s pants, pushing them down with his underwear and slipping to his knees to suck in his length. He stretched his lips around the wide girth and took in as much as he could, relishing in the throaty moans falling from Spencer’s lips. “God, Neal, I love you. I…ugh…I don’t know what I would have done if we hadn’t found each other.” His long, slender fingers twisted in Neal’s hair and pulled him back to stand. More deep, frantic kissing, driving the breath from Neal’s lungs, and pushing all the blood south. “I want you inside me,” Spencer breathed against Neal’s neck. “All night long. Forever.”

A short interlude while they relocated to the bedroom, stripped off their clothes—and Neal knew he lost a few buttons in the process but he needed to be naked now—and he pushed Spencer down on to the bed. Scrabbled for lube, and a pillow to place under his hips, and god, he was stunning, laid out and desperate, arching into every thrust of Neal’s fingers until they were ready. Neal hooked Spencer’s legs over his shoulders and pressed slowly into the tight heat of Spencer’s body, never losing eye contact. He paused, as he bottomed out, needing to take a few deep breaths, and then he started their dance. Slow out, fast in with a pause, watching, listening to every breath, every blissed-out whimper, whispered declarations of want and need until they were both swept away into ever more dizzying heights of passion. Long deep strokes coming faster, more erratic, Spencer’s hands on his own cock and balls and the sight was too much for Neal as he tensed and came deep inside, a marking of sorts, because Spencer was his and no one, not Morgan, not the ghosts of loves past, or visions of potential futures could have him ever again. He wrapped his hand around Spencer’s and aided him to his climax, shuddering as Spencer’s ass tightened around Neal’s sensitive cock, and yes, he could stay here all night, and into forever.


	17. Chapter 17

Life, Spencer was realising, really was the adventure filled with exquisite beauty authors and artists raved about. He’d never quite understood it before—where their passion for every breath, every word, every brush stroke came from even though he enjoyed the sharing of it. He’d always known of pain and humiliation, of gut wrenching disappointment, and of just feeling wrong. But now…life had a fullness. There was still pain and disappointment, but it was rounded out with ecstasy, light-heartedness, happiness, and just plain old simple love. The laughter in his life had depth, the friendships warmth, and the sex…oh, god, the sex. It was a revelation that his body, a complicated web of flesh, bone, and nerves could produce such ethereal passions that lighted the darkest places of his mind and put them out there on show. On show to Neal, at least. 

They had a lot of sex. Their thing was still new, it was expected that they couldn’t get enough of each other. Spencer had learned many new terms—like vanilla, which their sex sometimes was and was still incredible and moving and mind-blowing—had experienced new techniques and toys—anal beads, deep throating, say no more—and was, thanks to Neal’s encouragement, exploring new ground in terms of his own desires. Like the little, fledgling dominant awakening inside of him. This new Spencer liked to pin down and ravage, to possess and unravel, to mark and devastate, until Neal didn’t know which way was up or what day of the week it was. That Neal was open to it, enjoyed the games, revelled in the blurred lines of pain with his pleasure drove new Spencer to the very edge of his boundaries and occasionally across them with interesting results for them both. 

That Neal wasn’t wholly submissive helped ease Spencer into his discovery. They could switch it up when Spencer stretched too far and needed to cocoon to process some new experience, and then Neal would gently guide him back to that place of creativity beyond their natural expressions of love and lust. 

It was all of this, wrapped up with a trying day at the office and not enough—what Spencer liked to call his—Neal time that had lead to the current situation. Yet another example of someone pawing what was his—i.e. Neal. Irksome is what it was. Another handsy server, a woman this time, who thought it was acceptable to touch Neal’s shoulder, or his forearm, or his…Spencer put out his arm to stop the waitress covering Neal’s hand with her own. “Will you stop…” he glared at her, “touching him in such a familiar manner.”

“I…” she flushed an unbecoming shade of pink and glanced around the restaurant. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t realise I was doing it.”

“Bullshit.” Spencer dropped his hand over Neal’s as the waitress retreated a step. “Have the decency to admit when you’ve been caught out. Please have another member of staff bring our bill.”

“But you’ve just ordered dessert.”

“Which I suddenly don’t have a taste for any more, thank you.” Neal’s smirk was troublesome to Spencer’s lack of cool. He wanted to put Neal over the table and spank him for allowing the situation to get so far. He wouldn’t. He never had. Spanked Neal, that is. But maybe he should. 

The waitress left, flustered and embarrassed. “It was harmless,” Neal said, tangling their fingers together. 

“Not tonight.” Spencer wanted to shout, to cause a scene, but he breathed through it. 

“You want to talk about it?”

He nodded once. “At home. I’m feeling tired. You’re welcome to join me.” He didn’t know why he said it, but he saw the confusion, the hurt, on Neal’s face. They had been practically living together since the Keller incident. Had spent every night together since Neal had been granted permission to visit Spencer’s apartment. And just like that, Spencer had cast doubt on whether they should be together all the time. He kept hold of Neal’s hand as Neal started to pull away. “I’m sorry. Please,” Spencer waited until Neal looked at him. “Forgive me?”

Neal smiled, but it wasn’t one of his special smiles just for Spencer. “I’ll pay the bill and we can go home.”

The floor manager waived their bill due to the inappropriate conduct of his server and offered them another free meal next time. It was a quiet walk back to the apartment and Spencer was becoming more and more anxious that he’d somehow broken the best thing he’d ever had. With the door finally closed on the outside world, Neal took Spencer’s hand and led him to the couch. He arranged them both, facing each other, but knees touching, and Spencer’s hand still in his. 

“It’s okay,” he said, stroking Spencer’s cheek. “We’ve had a good run, but sooner or later one of us was going to piss the other off. It’s a natural part of relationships. It’s a good thing.”

“I wasn’t angry with you.”

“Yes, you were, and it’s okay.”

Spencer nodded. “I was more irritated. That you didn’t ask her to stop.”

“You know I’d never…”

“Of course, you don’t even have to say it. It just…pressed a button for me, I guess.”

“I forget where the line is.” Neal settled back on the couch and pulled Spencer with him, wrapping him up against his chest. “I see it in Peter’s eyes sometimes when we’re in the field, that maybe a situation has strayed into the over-familiar. It’s not something I consciously do, it’s more of a knee-jerk response—to flatter and make light of uncomfortable circumstances, maybe. It’s one of the downsides of being me.” Spencer felt Neal curling in on himself and snuggled closer. “People see something, I don’t know, maybe I give off some kind of vibe, but people have been handsy with me my whole life, whether I’ve welcomed it or not. I guess I’m just used to it and my coping mechanism has been to play into it.”

“I’m sorry people are like that with you.”

“I’m sorry it hurt you. That I didn’t notice it was upsetting you.”

“It’s just that you’re mine, Neal.”

Neal kissed his temple. “I am yours. Completely.”

“And when people maul you like that in front of me when we are obviously together…it’s not only disrespectful to us, but to what we have, like it’s worthless. Like it doesn’t count. And it just takes me back to all those times in my life when people have assumed I don’t count. That I’m insignificant.”

“I shouldn’t have given it my attention. I’ll be more mindful to shut it down next time because you’re right. It isn’t harmless, is it? Not to you, not to her.” Neal paused. Spencer worried that Neal didn’t add the last part, that it wasn’t harmless to him either. It’s something that had shaped Neal and his response to the world around him. “We’re good though, right?” And there was a hint of real concern in Neal’s voice that made Spencer feel guilty.

“Yeah, I don’t know why I said…”

“It doesn’t matter. As long as we’re okay. As long as you’re not fed up of having me around all the time.”

“God, no. In fact, one of the reasons I’m tetchy is that I keep expecting you to announce you’re going home. And then I feel bad because…well, you should be able to go home if you want to. Sure, you’re mine, but you don’t belong to me.”

“My heart belongs to you, Spencer.”

“That’s a good thing. For my sanity, that is a very good thing.”

“And everything else is okay? At work, I mean.”

“It is. As a team we are highly effective. Too much so, if anything.”

“So, work is going too well?”

Spencer chuffed a laugh. “I guess it is, really. We’re getting through cases much faster than we initially planned for. I’m encouraging the guys to build and work on their own projects to slow down our clearance rates to a more…expected level. And that’s going well.”

“But…?”

“But, it won’t be long before we’re going to run out of cases we can look into in New York. I have a whole stack of files where we need to re-interview witnesses, walk crime scenes, get a feel for the local environment.”

“And?”

“I don’t want to leave you. Not even for a single night. And I know that’s childish and stupid, but it’s just how I feel.” Spencer shuffled around to look at Neal. “I remember saying to Alex once there will always be work, but this, what we have, having each other…it’s a rare and beautiful thing and shouldn’t be taken for granted. Not a moment should be wasted that isn’t absolutely necessary.”

“I’ll always be here.”

“We both know that’s something we have no control over. Better to take every opportunity to live every hour, minute, and second to its fullest potential, and for me…that means being close to you. I don’t have to be in your pocket 24/7, but when I went to DC I realised being in the same city is something I need to feel…happy.”

“I don’t know what I did to deserve you, Spencer, but it must have been something pretty damned special.”

“Likewise.” And just like that, everything was fixed, back on track. And Spencer felt brave again. “I may have to start introducing a deterrent, however.”

“A deterrent for what, exactly?” The interest in Neal’s tone was evident. 

“Your unruly behaviour.” Spencer stroked his hand over Neal’s stomach to his groin, on over his thigh and back up, sweeping over his ass. He slapped it lightly. “Maybe a form of punishment would be appropriate?”

“Oh,” Spencer could feel Neal’s grin against his shoulder. “You want to spank me.” He slipped over Spencer’s lap to sit astride him.

Spencer kneaded Neal’s ass in his hands. “And if I do?”

“If you do it right, I can’t see it being much of a deterrent.” And he nipped over Spencer’s neck and shoulder before delving in for a hot, deep kiss full of promise and naughtiness. 

 

The hot, stickiness of summer was finally giving way to a cooler edge, not quite of autumn, but the worst of the heat had passed. What that meant for Spencer, was that a sweater vest was necessary in the air-conditioned offices. In this instance, a yellow sweater vest he’d just spilt coffee over. 

“That’s going to stain,” Miandra said, appearing from nowhere. “Off.” Spencer sighed, pulled of the sweater and handed it over. “I’ll rinse it out for you.”

“Thank you.” He smoothed his hair back in to some semblance of order.

“No problem. You have a visitor.”

Spencer looked over her shoulder to see an amused Clinton Jones. “Oh, what can I do for you?”

“I hope I’m not interrupting anything?”

Miandra snorted. “He should be so lucky.”

“Um, Miandra prefers her guys to…”

“Like girls,” she said as she glided from the office.

“I was going to say, have more muscle, but yeah, I guess that works too.” Spencer smiled at Jones and straightened his tie. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, actually I wanted to talk to you about a personal matter.”

“Oh, I’m actually not much good at those, but, sure, go for it.” Spencer gestured to a seat. “Is this okay, or would you prefer a private office?”

Jones scouted the area briefly and settled in the chair. “This is fine. Uh, Caffrey mentioned you go out for a drink every Friday as a team.”

“We go to a bar around the corner, have a few drinks, wind down, something to eat.”

“And then you go dancing at a Forties Club.” Jones squirmed. “I was wondering whether I could get an invite one Friday. Barring any work-related catastrophes. I’d like to ask Greta on a date.”

“You don’t need my permission for that.”

Jones smiled. “I know, but I thought it would be preferable to ease into it in a social situation and it wouldn’t seem appropriate to invite myself to your team gathering.”

“That’s very considerate of you. Of course, you can join us.” Spencer grinned. “For drinks and food at the bar. You want to go dancing, you have to win that invitation from Greta, and she’s a hard cookie so you’d better bring your best game.”

“What do you think are my chances?”

“Fair to middling. She is single at the moment, so that’ a good start. She prefers straight talking, rather than Neal’s style of charm, which I believe is much more you.”

“A woman who isn’t smitten by the Caffrey smile? I like her more already.”

Spencer laughed. He liked Jones. Easy going but a straight arrow. Dependable. Loyal. “I have to ask, this is about Greta, isn’t it, and not about keeping an eye on Neal for Peter? Not that I suppose you would tell me the truth.”

Jones put up his hands in supplication. “I wouldn’t do that on my down time, and I certainly wouldn’t use Greta as an in. Not even for Peter.”

His answer rang true, and Spencer smiled. “In that case we’ll see you tomorrow evening. Oh, one more thing…” Jones looked back on his way out of the office. “You play her, and I will hurt you.”

Jones nodded, a quirk of a smile just peeking. “Noted.” And was gone. Interesting. Not that Jones would be interested in Greta, she was a great girl, but that he’d go about asking her out in such a way. He supposed his team was set apart from the rest of the Bureau. That was the idea, after all. They were the only team on the nineteenth floor, with much of it under refurbishment, so it wasn’t as though he could casually walk past her in the office. Stalking elevators didn’t seem Jones’ style, so yeah, what other option did he have really? 

“What was that about?” Spencer flushed as he looked up to see Greta standing over him. “Miandra told me he paid a visit.”

“Interested?”

“Personally, or professionally?” Her eyes sparkled. Oh yeah, she was interested. “Okay, you got me. He’s cute. Kind of old fashioned. Respectful. I like that.”

“Good. He’s coming to the bar tomorrow night. He wants to ask you out.”

“He asked your permission?” 

“To join our team outing, yes. I told him to be prepared to work for his invitation from you to the club.”

“Oo, good call.” She flicked her many, many layers of skirts as she turned on her heel to leave. “Should be fun. Though Peter won’t be happy.”

“I don’t understand.”

“First you steal Neal away from him, now you’re stealing Jones?” She wagged her finger at him. “Tut-tut, Dr Reid. You’ll be getting a reputation.”

“For what?” he called after her, but she’d swished out of sight.

He was just thinking of getting his spare sweater from his go bag—a habit left over from his old life—when his phone rang. He answered without checking the caller ID. “This is Spencer.”

“Reid. Thanks for picking up, I’m tired of having long one-sided conversations with your voice mail.”

“Morgan, now isn’t a good time. I’m at work.”

“It seems no time is ever a good time. I need to see you, please.”

“Look, I’m pleased you’re okay, Morgan, but really, I have nothing to offer you.”

“You’re telling me you really have no attraction to men despite our obvious chemistry? It’s always been there, you have to know that.”

“I’m saying I’m not interested in exploring a relationship with you. Why is that so difficult for you to understand? Do you really have so few people turn you down that you can’t believe I would?”

“Reid, please. At least let me know where you are.”

“Good-bye, Morgan. Look after yourself.”

It hurt, hanging up, but he didn’t know what else to do. Perhaps he should call Garcia again, ask her to talk to him. It worked the previous week. He stopped calling for a few days, but this was the third day in a row. Spencer supposed he was bored at home with nothing but thoughts and regrets, but really, Morgan had no right trying to high-jack Spencer’s new life. 

“Sticky ex?” Spencer sighed. Reece. The one member of his team who wasn’t quite as enamoured with him as the rest. “Hey, I don’t want to step over any lines.”

“It’s okay, I just… Not an ex. Well, an ex-colleague, but we were never together.”

“Ah, the BAU guy who got shot the other week.” Spencer narrowed his eyes. “Not gossip, I swear, but you did drop everything and fly to DC.”

“You know I left the BAU under difficult circumstances.” Reece nodded, that much he had shared with the team in the first couple of weeks. “They don’t know where I am. Other than Garcia, who you met, and my old boss, all the others know is that I am still with the FBI. And that’s how I want it to stay. For now.”

“That’s harsh, Spencer. I know it’s none of my business, but I’d worry if someone I cared about, if someone I’d worked with for that many years just fell off the grid.” Reece patted Spencer’s shoulder. A rare enough display from Reece for Spencer to take note of what came next. “I know what happened to you was horrible, but do you really want to punish them too?” Punish them? Is that what he was doing? “Just…think about it, okay?”

“I will. Thank you.”

“Knowing they’re hurting, has to be hurting you to, even if you aren’t acknowledging it.”

“I didn’t think you were good at the people stuff.”

“I’m not. Because I see too much. How people hurt one another. I don’t like that.”

“Is that why you don’t really like me all that much, you think I hurt people?”

Reece laughed. “I like you well enough, Spencer. I’ve just known Dougie longer, and I prefer to limit the number of people I’m close to. Think of it as irrational protection for a thoroughly bruised and broken heart.” Reece gave Spencer a sad smile. “I know you’d be a good friend. I just don’t have room for anything more than workplace camaraderie. Don’t take it personally.” Reece patted him once more on the shoulder and left him to his thoughts. 

 

“Another win for Caffrey and Burke.” Spencer raised his glass to Neal’s and then Mozzie’s, who had become somewhat of a frequent fixture in the apartment of late. It had been nine days since the Keller incident and Neal still hadn’t gone home. “Is Peter happy again now?”

“You’d think so, but no. Returning the Mitchell should have eased things over, but he’s still edgy. Whatever he was working on with Jones didn’t pan out and it was Moz who brought in the tip that landed the whale.”

“You’re welcome,” Mozzie said, taking a long slug of wine.

“Do you think he was trying to close it without you to show he still could?”

“I don’t know. But something isn’t right.” Neal took a slice of pizza. “How about you?”

Spencer considered whether he could share his concerns in front of Mozzie. It wasn’t anything intimate, so he guessed it wouldn’t hurt too much, and another opinion might be helpful. “Work is okay, but Reece said something today that made me think.”

“Team Reece?”

“Yeah. He, well, Morgan called. I’ve been letting his calls go to voice mail, but Jones wanted to ask out Greta, and ugh, anyway…I answered my phone without realising who it was, and Reece overheard the call.”

“I’m guessing he offered unwelcome advice.”

“Not really. He was making sure I was okay in his own round about way, but he suggested I’m being unfair to my old team. That I’m punishing them for what happened to Maeve.” He looked at Neal. “Do you think that? Answer objectively, honestly. Don’t just say what you think I’ll want to hear.”

“Have I ever done that?” Neal looked affronted, and Spencer shook his head. “Right. So, I’m not likely to do it now. Punishing them how? Did he mention something specific?”

“By not keeping in touch with them. I basically disappeared. Other than Hotch and Garcia, they don’t even know where I am.”

Neal frowned. He new this already, of course, but when it was laid out like that…even Spencer saw it differently. Mozzie raised his hand. “Can I ask what it was that made you break contact with them? I understand you suffered a trauma, needed to start over, but was there something else?”

“We were working the case together. Maeve had been kidnapped by her stalker. They were there when it happened. Except Garcia. Maeve was being held at gunpoint.” Spencer shuddered, and Neal put down his glass and moved closer to hold his hand. “They didn’t…they all just watched. Not one of them took the shot that could have saved her. The kidnapper”—that’s all she was, he couldn’t bring himself to think of her as a person with a name—"put the gun to her own temple. Any one of them could have taken her down. A shot to the arm, to the leg would have immobilised her and freed Maeve. She pressed her head against Maeve’s and pulled the trigger. The bullet shot them both in the head. I didn’t have my weapon, she’d taken it. There was nothing I could have done. They could have at least tried to save her.” Spencer sniffed, and Neal wiped away his tears. “I’ve seen Morgan take a kill shot for a lot less. Not one of them stepped up.” He collected himself, squeezed Neal’s hand. “I couldn’t bare to look at them. A major downside to perfect recall, as you’d know, is that you relive moments in every detail. They remind me of that moment. Of what could have been. And although I would never trade the life I have now with Neal, I’m not ready to move on from the fact that when I needed them most they weren’t there for me. And I feel so guilty about that because the only reason we found Maeve at all was because they believed me, worked with me to find her. But in the end…”

Neal kissed the tears away from his cheeks. “It takes time. You have to give yourself time.”

“How do I give myself time when the memories never fade? The times I almost reached for the dilaudid to help me forget. Just for a few minutes peace. And it wasn’t Maeve’s death I wanted to escape it was their betrayal.”

“Dilaudid? That’s…” Mozzie ran out of words.

“Spencer was kidnapped during a case and the guy holding him was shooting him up over the course of a couple of days to keep him out of it.”

“Another difficulty of an eidetic memory. You never forget how good it feels to float away from it all.” 

“It’s true the memories don’t fade,” Mozzie said. “But they can reorder themselves. Over the years I’ve found shifting the focus of the memory helpful to desensitise it. It takes practise, but it works. It’s just like training the mind to do anything else. As for your old team…no one else can tell you when it’s time to move on, or lay judgement on you as to whether your decisions in relation to them are fair. You have to do what feels right to you, what allows you to stay in your happy place without chemical assistance.”

“I’m sure Reece thought he was helping, but Moz is right. It’s how you feel that’s important, not how it looks from his perspective.” 

“I remember how I felt when Emily was just gone. I don’t want them to feel like that. But I’m also not ready to have them in my life on a regular basis.”

“Then take it a step at a time.” Neal rubbed a hand over Spencer’s shoulder in support. “The first step could be telling them where you are, how your work is going, so they know you are living a good and happy life. Work with Moz on refocusing those difficult memories and see what happens. But no more guilt. We all do the best we can we what we have.”

“Now what was that about Jones asking out Greta?” Neal and Spencer looked at Mozzie and laughed. Yes, it was good to have friends. And Reece had meant well and highlighted something to Spencer he’d missed in himself. And maybe Morgan did need better closure. Spencer couldn’t offer it right this minute, but now he knew it needed to happen he could work towards it. He allowed Neal to pull him into a reassuring hug and then they returned their attentions to slightly cold pizza and Jones’ date night.


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Because I decided Peter isn't always a good guy.
> 
> There is potential for him to redeem himself later...
> 
> Warning - brief mention of previous abuse.

Spencer was nervous. It was like going to dinner with the Dean, and he’d had to do that a number of times during his college days. He thought it was probably in part because Neal was so unsettled with Peter’s motives, unable to get a read on where he fit into Peter’s new career plans. And it made Spencer edgy because Neal had good senses. If he felt something was off, then something was off. 

They’d spent their first night back at Neal’s since finding Keller in the apartment. It was good, to eat breakfast on the terrace again, hang out with June, and it had just been so much more convenient to amble back there from the club after such a great night, than faff with a cab back to Spencer’s own apartment. 

Jones had secured his invitation dancing and surprised them all by being a very accomplished dancer himself. He’d learned in the Navy, apparently. And that had won Greta over enough to agree to a second date. Presumably one Peter wouldn’t be walking in on. 

They had spent the day shopping, had a picnic lunch in the park, and now he stood on Peter’s doorstep feeling like a kid waiting to see the headmaster. Neal was just as fidgety. “Elizabeth will keep things civil,” Neal said, squeezing Spencer’s hand. “I hope.” They had time for a quick kiss and the door opened.

“Oh, look at you two.” Elizabeth grinned. “Young love is so sweet.”

“It’s lovely to see you again. We brought this.” Spencer handed her the bottle of wine. A very expensive bottle of wine he had entrusted Neal to pick out. She accepted it graciously. 

“Come on in.”

Conversation was slow and sticky. Peter was hung up on Keller’s reappearance, and kept bringing it up even though it was irritating Elizabeth. “Peter, I don’t think any of us want to talk about that man. This is supposed to be a social evening.”

“I’m sorry,” he said to her, and it was almost genuine, but the way he looked at Neal he was definitely fishing for something and he hadn’t found it. “So, what have you two been up to today?”

“Picnic at the park,” Spencer offered. “It was lovely.”

“Did you buy anything nice?” 

Neal sighed. “Still pulling my tracking detail even though I have an FBI chaperone.” 

Peter looked at Spencer. “Always.” Or in other words, he’s still my responsibility and I don’t like you much. 

“If it makes Peter happy, Neal, there’s no harm in it…” Spencer said, squeezing his thigh under the table.

Peter bristled. “It doesn’t make me happy. It’s my job.” 

“Oh, well in that case, Peter, I’m sorry your job doesn’t make you happy.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

Elizabeth stood up. “Neal, why don’t you help me with dessert.” He followed her into the kitchen and left Spencer in a stand off with Peter. They sat in silence. 

It was ridiculous. How many times were they going to do this? One of them had to be the grown up. “Neal tells me you’ve been offered a new role in DC. It sounds interesting.”

“Did he now.” Peter glanced across to where Neal and Elizabeth were pretending to be busy.

“I’m sorry. Was it supposed to be a secret?”

“No, of course not. I haven’t decided which role to take as of yet. They are still finalising details of the new position. I’ve asked them to consider basing it in New York.”

“That could work. New York is the hub for White Collar crime, after all. I believe DC comes in a close second though, right?”

“That’s right. You know your statistics.”

“It’s something we review for the director, and it helps us plan our resources effectively. How busy a department is, closure rates, staffing levels and turnover, that kind of thing.”

“You monitor staff turnover?”

“A department with a high staff turnover usually has a lower than average closure rate. It’s one of the issues the director hopes to challenge with our team. We work with the department in question, see what they need to achieve a turn around.”

“You’re carrying out division assessments?” Peter asked carefully, almost as though he were poking a sleeping bear. It was a strategic question, however. Peter was sizing up his opposition. 

“No, god, no. It was suggested, but I politely declined. I’m more interested in whether the staff have what they need. You can’t expect a department to perform if they don’t have enough people or resources, support from management, access to technology and tech analysts. No, we’re the team they send in before the formal assessment begins. If a department has everything it needs and still isn’t keeping staff or closing cases…then they have a formal review.”

“That’s a big role you’ve taken on so early in your career.”

Spencer shrugged. “The political implications are big, the job itself is very straightforward. Hopefully, once the agents on the ground realise we aren’t the bad guys, that we could, in theory, improve their working environment we won’t seem so threatening. We’re not OPR, after all. Besides, any cold cases we clear for them are part of their stats as well as ours. That has to be win-win. And I’m not exactly wet behind the ears. I’ve been part of an elite team for the Bureau for more than eight years. I’ve worked with police departments, Marshals, all areas of law enforcement actually, and the Bureau all over the country. That experience has to count for something.”

“Hughes was certainly impressed with your work.”

“As I said to Reece at the time, your division has excellent reporting skills. It made our job a lot easier. You should see some of the files we have to work with.” Spencer shook his head. “But, we enjoy a challenge.”

Peter didn’t relax. If anything, he was wound tighter than before. He wasn’t the easiest person to read, but he had revealed he was much more career driven than his work history suggested. He was frustrated because he couldn’t see where Spencer and his team fitted into the FBI hierarchy, didn’t know how far he could push, maybe, without serious implications for his own future. And there was that possessiveness over Neal, out front and centre. He wasn’t even trying to hide it or disguise it in any way. It was blatant—he was mine first, and I control him in ways you never will. If for nothing other than Spencer’s own sanity, he had to get rid of that damned tracker. 

“Have you been dancing lately?” Elizabeth asked as she and Neal brought over dessert.

There was a pause before Neal answered. “Oh, I thought you were going to answer, Peter, as you like to remind everyone you know my every move.” He turned and smiled at Elizabeth, continuing before Peter could say anything. “We were there last night. Actually, Jones was there with us if you want details rather than a blinking dot on a screen, Peter. He’s a very good dancer.”

“Jones.” Peter’s feathers ruffled again. “My Jones?”

“Is he yours?” Neal asked. “Does he know?”

“As in my team.” Peter looked at Spencer. “How did Jones end up on one of your team outings?”

“He’s dating Greta. Or at least starting the process. He asked me if he could come along. I didn’t realise he would need your permission to socialise within the FBI.”

“Well, Greta is a lovely girl,” Elizabeth said, patting Peter’s hand roughly, as though in warning. “I hope they make a go of it.” 

The evening continued carefully until Peter broke out the Scotch, then he started to let his guard down and the evening took a disastrous turn. Peter got handsy with Neal. He’d pulled his chair closer to Neal’s at the table, his body language was open and suggestive, and he regularly stoked a hand over Neal’s arm from shoulder to elbow. It wasn’t so much that, but Neal was obviously uncomfortable and so was Elizabeth. And Peter was ignoring it. 

It was the squeeze of Neal’s thigh that did it for Spencer. “Okay, that’s enough. Neal, you don’t have to put up with that.”

Neal flushed. “Spencer, please, it’s…”

“Don’t you dare say it’s okay.”

“Problem?” Peter grinned.

“Take your hand off him.”

Peter rubbed Neal’s thigh. “Oh, you don’t mind, do you, Neal?”

“They’re always the same, Spencer, it’s fine.” Elizabeth tried to make light but was visibly upset.

“It’s not fine, and Neal does mind. It’s an abuse of the power you hold over him, Peter, and you know it. I tagged you as more professional than this.”

“What are you talking about? Neal is happy with me touching him, aren’t you Neal?”

“Actually, Peter, no I’m not. I never have been. And neither has your wife, not that you’d ever notice.”

“Oh, I see what’s going on here. You have your FBI boyfriend now so all of a sudden I’m the bad guy. Well, just remember you’re only here because of me.”

“Exactly. And that’s why I’ve never said anything about this before. But there are boundaries, Peter, that I wish you would stop crossing.”

It seemed to sober Peter, and he took a proper look at Elizabeth. “You really have a problem with this?”

“Honey, I’ve tried to tell you before, but you never listen to me. I’ve told you it makes Neal uncomfortable, and yes, it kind of makes me uncomfortable too. It’s like you…oh, never mind.”

“Maybe we should leave.” Spencer didn’t want to hang around for the row that was about to kick off between the Burkes. He held out his hand to Neal. “Thank you, Elizabeth, for a lovely dinner.”

“Now you just hang on one minute.” Peter got to his feet, an arm extended between Spencer and Neal. 

“Peter.” It wasn’t quite a shout, but it was enough that Peter turned to Elizabeth. “That is enough. Neal and Spencer are leaving. Thank you, guys.” She walked them to the door. “I’m sorry about Peter. I don’t know what’s gotten into him lately.”

“It’s okay.” Neal hugged her. “He’s probably just worried about the new job. It’s a difficult decision he has to make.”

“No, it’s more than that. I think he thinks he’s in love with you.”

“No.”

“Yes. And it’s okay, because he’d never act on it, but you’re going to be gone soon. Even now,” she looked at Spencer. “You don’t need him as much as you used to.”

“That’s a good thing though, right?”

“For us, absolutely. For him, not so much. But anyway, you have a good night. I’ll see you soon.”

“Well, that was awkward,” Neal said as the door closed. 

“I hope I haven’t…made a mess of things for you.”

Neal linked his arm through Spencer’s. “It’s just another one of those things I shrugged off as harmless that is anything but. You were right to say something. Besides, he’s never usually that bad. He was definitely baiting you. Or trying to prove something. God, I wish I didn’t have to rely on his good graces so much.”

“Not for much longer.”

“And yet it doesn’t end soon enough.”

 

OXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO

 

Neal knew something was wrong as soon as the elevator doors opened. It was confirmed by the presence of Marshals in the office. He sent a text to Spencer straight away.  
‘I think I’m done for. There are Marshals here.’

He made his way to the coffee machine as usual, noting the looks he was getting and the smirk from the Marshal near his desk. “What’s going on?” he asked Jones.

“I’m not sure. But I think they’re here for you. Done anything you shouldn’t have since Friday night?”

“Other than a really awkward dinner at Peter’s, nothing at all.”

“Well, it looks like you may have pissed him off once and for all.” Jones gestured to Peter’s office. “He’s calling you.”

Neal offered Peter coffee by raising his mug, but Peter shook his head and retreated into his office. He checked his phone. A text from Spencer to say he was on his way. Better to get it over with. He entered Peter’s office and closed the door.

“What’s with the Marshals?” He kept his tone friendly and neutral, but Peter was sucking lemons. 

“They are here to escort you back to prison.” Peter stood with his hands on his hips, daring Neal to challenge him.

Neal’s insides went cold. He should have just said he liked Peter touching him up. “For what reason?”

“As it seems I make you feel so uncomfortable out here in the free world, I figured you’d be happier there.”

“Don’t do this, Peter, come on…”

“Besides, you’re signed into my custody as my responsibility and now you’re allowed outside of your radius I can’t vouch for you any more.”

“This is because of Saturday night. And you wonder why I didn’t say anything before. I’m sorry, okay, but it needed to be addressed. You can’t really be serious about this?”

“I’ve made my decision.” 

“What do you think happens to someone like me in prison, Peter?”

“That’s not my concern.”

“So, what? Because I pulled you up for pawing at me you’re going to send me back to be raped, is that it?” Peter’s stoney face faltered. “Or is it because you can’t control what I have with Spencer, you don’t want him to have me because you can’t so you’re just going to hand me back to be fucked by whoever wants me. Well, that's just great.”

“Neal, I…you’ve never said.”

“Seriously, because I didn’t cry on your shoulder about it you think it didn’t happen? You’re making a mistake, Peter.” While Peter was struggling for words, Neal saw his chance and slipped out of the door and into Hughes office before the Marshal approaching Peter’s room reached him. 

“Did you agree to this?”

“Caffrey, don’t you know how to knock?”

“I know I haven’t always been the easiest person to have on your team, but come on, I’ve stayed within the rules. I’ve closed cases for you. God, Spencer is with me whenever I’m not here.” Neal fought back a sob. “You can’t send me back.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“Peter…” Was it possible Hughes didn’t know? “The Marshals are here for me. Peter is sending me back to prison.”

“Why?”

“We had a disagreement over dinner, but nothing to warrant this.” Neal looked out to the office. “Spencer is here.” And he looked like he was ready to shoot someone.

One of the Marshals knocked on the door. “We’re here to take Caffrey, sir.”

Hughes stood to address him. “No, you’re not.” 

“But we have to.” The second guy appeared around the door and smirked again. “Agent Burke terminated his contract with the Bureau first thing this morning.”

“Well, I’m re-instating it. Caffrey will report to me directly from now on.”

“But…” Spencer appeared in the doorway. He looked ready to tear someone limb from limb, and Neal was kind of pleased he hadn’t gone straight to Peter’s office. 

“But, nothing. Actually, wait there, I’ll clear it with your superior now.” Hughes picked up the phone. Whoever he was addressing on first name terms wiped the smirk of the second Marshal’s face. “I’ll have the paperwork to you by the end of the day, Jason. Yes, I’ll deal with my agent. I’ll see you for golf next week.” He looked up. “You can leave him with me. Make a note that you are only to deal with me in the future. Accept no orders from Agent Burke in relation to Caffrey. Do you understand?” The Marshals nodded and left.

“Thank you, Reece,” Spencer said, closing the door behind them.

“Neal, I didn’t do this as a favour for Spencer. You have earned your place on this team, and as such my respect. Now, I don’t know what is going on between you and Peter, but you’d better damn well fix it.” He raised his hand to stop Spencer interrupting. “Not now, and certainly not here for everyone to see.” Peter knocked on the door once and walked in. Hughes didn’t let him say anything. “Out. I’ll deal with you later.” Peter disappeared. Neal was shaking. He reached out to steady himself against the back of a chair. Spencer hovered. “Spencer, maybe you can take a few days off, get Caffrey out of here while I try to talk some sense into Peter.”

“I’ll call the director.”

“I’ll complete the paperwork. Caffrey, you’re under my charge now, I’m trusting you to behave.”

“Of course, thank you.”

“You have something stable with Spencer. I’m counting on that to carry you through. Spencer, I suggest you both get out of the city for a few days.”

“But…”

“I’ll take care of the tracker. Just…inform me of your intended destination before you go, and I’ll log it personally. It’ll give the Marshals something to do. I’ll expect you to check in morning and evening.” Spencer nodded. “And if Greta needs anything, tell her to call me.” He sighed. “Go, before I change my mind.”

Neal wasn’t sure he could move. Spencer placed a hand to the small of his back. “Are you okay to go?”

“Yeah, let’s get out of here.”

“Remember to let me know where you’re going, Spencer. The last thing I want is a call every hour to say that damned thing on his ankle is going off.”

Spencer whisked him out of the office and into the elevator. “I have to stop off to tell the team what’s happening. Neal, I’m so sorry. This is my fault.”

“No, it isn’t. It’s Peter’s fault for being childish, and it’s my fault for not dealing with him earlier.”

“I shouldn’t have been so sarcastic with him.”

“It wouldn’t have mattered. It was heading this way long before you arrived in New York.”

Spencer took him through to one of the private offices. “Are you sure you’ll be okay here. All I need is ten minutes.”

Neal nodded. He wasn’t okay, not by a long shot, but he could hold it together until they made it out of the building. Actually, now he thought about it he was feeling a bit numb inside. His phone rang, it was Jones. He let it go to voice mail, not wanting to chance it was Peter. Then Diana called, and he did the same. Then he had a text from Jones.

‘Hughes just ripped Peter a new one for what he did to you. I’m glad. You didn’t deserve that. Take care, Caffrey.” 

And then one from Diana.

‘Peter was out of line. Hughes will look out for you.’

He was shaking again. So close. What would have happened if Hughes hadn’t been in? He dived for the bin under the desk and threw up. Spencer was there at his side before he’d finished heaving. “It’s going to be okay. I’ve got you.” He rubbed Neal’s back.

“This is why I wear a tie pin.” Spencer handed him a tissue and he wiped his mouth. “I’m sorry about that.” He pointed to the bin. 

“Come on, let’s get you home.” 

Neal just followed. He couldn’t allow himself to think too much about what was going on. If he did…he wouldn’t be able to put one foot in front of the other. His knees were already weak, his breathing shallow. What he wouldn’t give for a few cocktails and a white sandy beach. Probably farther from the city than Hughes would approve of. But they were getting away. Just the two of them. No radius. No FBI. No Peter. And that’s what kept Neal moving. Past the stares in the foyer—because nothing travelled faster than bad news—and out into the morning sun. A few blocks and he’d be home. With Spencer. And he could let go.


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning for talk of past abuse.   
> Mention of underage sexual abuse.

Spencer ushered Neal through June’s front door, up the stairs and into the apartment. He paused for a moment and Neal could see he was struggling for something to say. 

“It’s okay,” Neal offered.

“No, it’s not.” Spencer touched his hand to Neal’s cheek. “But it will be. Come on.” He led Neal to the bed stripped off his jacket and tie and placed them carefully over a chair before proceeding to strip Neal down to his underwear. He then stripped himself and arranged them on the bed with Neal curled against his chest. The sheets were crusty from their round of morning sex, and normally Neal would have protested to change them first, but he couldn’t find the energy. “Try to get some rest, and then we can think about where to go for a few days. Anywhere you want.”

“Anywhere?”

Spencer chuckled. “Well, I think maybe we should stay in the US, but other than that, yes, anywhere. Florida, California, Texas…”

“Texas?”

“There are still things we don’t know about each other. You could secretly want to be a cowboy.”

“You just want to see me in a Stetson.”

“You do look good in hats.”

Just what Neal needed. Light hearted banter and a meaningful hug. He snuggled closer, enjoying the comfort and warmth. “Nah, too many guns in Texas.” He was surprised to find he was feeling sleepy. Probably the stress. Or Spencer stroking his hair. Either way he felt his eyelids drooping. 

“I’ve never loved anyone as I love you. You should know that,” he heard Spencer whisper as he slipped into sleep.

 

Neal stretched languidly. “How long was I out?” He was still draped over Spencer’s chest and feeling ridiculously comfortable, to the point he could stay there all day. 

“About forty minutes.” Spencer kissed his temple. “Do you fancy some coffee?”

“Yeah, I’ll make it.”

“How about I make the coffee, you make some eggs. I’m hungry.”

“Deal.” Neal’s phone buzzed from his jacket pocket. “Can you get that for me?”

Spencer dug around, pulled out the phone and checked the caller ID. “It’s Elizabeth. Do you want to speak to her?”

“Just check Peter isn’t with her first.”

“Hey, Elizabeth, it’s Spencer. Of course, you can talk to him. He just wanted to make sure Peter isn’t with you.” Spencer glanced at Neal and smiled. “Okay. You take care.” He handed the phone to Neal. “Coast is clear.”

“Sorry about that,” Neal said to Elizabeth. “I’m not ready for a conversation with Peter yet.”

“Neal, I just want you to know I had no idea. I am so angry with him.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“Well, he is sleeping in the guest room for the foreseeable future, I can tell you. How are you?”

“Okay, I guess. I don’t think it’s really hit me yet. I trusted him, you know. I just…I don’t know what happened.”

“You listen to me, Neal, you did nothing wrong. Peter has been acting oddly for months now. I don’t know if it’s a mid-life crisis, or what it is, but whatever, it’s not about you.”

“Not about me?”

“I mean you’re not to blame. I’m just relieved Reece was there to save Peter from making a really, serious mistake.” She sighed. “You know he would never intentionally hurt you, right?”

“I thought I knew that, but now…not so much. Listen, I have to go.”

“Anywhere nice?” 

Neal paused for thought. She wouldn’t be fishing for Peter, would she? He couldn’t be sure. Not that it mattered. He didn’t know where they were going. “Haven’t decided yet. I’m just packing some things.”

“Okay, well you keep in touch, okay. Peter may be out of his mind, but I still want to know you’re safe.”

“Got it. Good bye, Elizabeth.” He hung up and stared at his phone. It was sad, to think he may not see her again. She had been good to him over the years. 

“Here.” Spencer took the phone and handed him a mug of coffee. “It’s going to be okay.”

“Is it?” Neal wiped away a stray tear. Spencer took the mug and placed it on the table before pulling Neal to the couch. They sat together, and Spencer wrapped his arms around Neal and let him cry, stroking his back, pushing the hair out of his face, and placing gentle kisses on his forehead. “I’m sorry,” Neal said as the tears subsided. 

“You don’t have to apologise. It’s natural you would be upset. It’s good to let it go. Peter was your friend; his betrayal is going to hurt.”

“I don’t even think I’m angry with him. I just want to know what I did to make him do something so drastic. It must have been brewing for a long time. You don’t just have a disagreement at dinner and decide to wash your hands of someone.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong. And, you know, despite what happened today, you two still have far more good memories than bad. You don’t have to hate him, Neal. You don’t have to be angry. But it’s also okay to be upset, disappointed, confused. Things have been tense for a while.”

Neal could hear the unspoken words, the ‘since I’ve been on the scene’. “I don’t know what I’d do without you, Spencer. And I know you probably think this is your fault, but it isn’t. I’ve always known the end would be rough with Peter. I didn’t think it would go this way, but I knew it wouldn’t be good, so please, know this isn’t your doing.”

“Okay.” Spencer smoothed Neal’s hair off his forehead. “Let’s just focus on the next few days. Have you thought where you’d like to go?”

“As long as we’re together, I don’t care. You choose.” And he really didn’t. Getting out of the city was the best gift Hughes could have given him, especially sending Spencer as chaperone. It was the best thing in a long while apart from Spencer himself.

“I do have one idea. I thought of it while you were asleep. But you can say no.”

“Sounds ominous.” Neal sniffed away the last of his tears and sat up to face Spencer. “What do you have in mind?”

“I thought we could go to see my mom. I…she’s never met anyone I’ve…I’ve never been with anyone I wanted her to meet before, so it will be…interesting. I don’t know how she will react.”

“To you being gay?”

“It’s unlikely that will phase her. I mean to me being involved with someone. She’s never asked me, not once, whether there was anyone in my life. I tell her everything that happens, write her a letter every day, but I’ve never mentioned you. I never mentioned Maeve. I’ve never said anything about those kinds of relationships. She knows I have a friend called Neal I spend a lot of time with, but not that…”

“We’re sleeping together.”

“Not how much I love you. Or that we’re practically living together.”

Living together. Neal liked that. He liked that a lot. “How do you think she will react?”

“Hard to say. She can be very unpredictable. I would like to think she will be happy for me, especially when she realises how happy you make me.”

“Okay, let’s do it. I want to be in your life. All of your life. I’d love to meet her. She’s in Vegas, right? Do you think Hughes will be okay with us going there? I do have a reputation, after all.”

“You do, but I’m the one who’s banned from every casino on the strip, so I don’t think it’ll be you he’s concerned about.”

“Ah, so I’ll be the one keeping tabs on you. Nice.” He dived in for a kiss, pushed Spencer back against the arm of the couch and smoothed a hand over his crotch. “Do I have time to thoroughly ravish you beforehand?”

“Absolutely, and always.”

 

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOX

 

With the plans set, flights booked, bags packed, and friends informed, Spencer was left with one more call to make. He left Neal making eggs and stepped onto the terrace. Hughes answered on the first ring. 

“How is Caffrey holding up?”

“Better than expected. I’m taking him to meet my mother. I’ve emailed our travel route and hotel reservation details.” He took a breath. “She, uh, she lives in Las Vegas, well, actually she’s resident at a hospital there. We won’t be visiting any casinos or shows, and I’ve booked us a hotel on the outskirts.”

“Okay, as long as I have all the information.” He sounded as though he’d moved across the office and closed his door. “I’ve spoken to Peter. He had already realised his mistake, but that doesn’t excuse his behaviour. To use his position in the Bureau for a personal vendetta of sorts is unacceptable. He’s on unpaid leave for the rest of the week and I have told him under no circumstances is he to contact you or Caffrey. I ask you to notify me immediately if he breaks that condition.”

“Thank you, Reece, again, for everything you’re doing for Neal.”

“I’m just sorry I had to step in. I’m dumbfounded, we all are. I spoke to Jones and Diana, they had no idea what was going on. Neal should have come to me sooner.”

“He didn’t know either. Not the extent of it, anyway. We’ve had a couple of issues with Peter being possessive, but nothing to suggest he would do something like this.”

There was a moment’s pause as though Hughes was weighing up whether to say more. “Peter said Neal accused him of inappropriate behaviour. That he was safeguarding himself.”

What a bastard. And a typical excuse from a perpetrator. Spencer was tempted to question Neal more thoroughly on what exactly Peter had done over the years but that would be inappropriate and unfair given everything Neal was going through, and maybe, just maybe, Peter was running scared rather than guilty. “That’s not the case at all. Neal asked him to refrain from what he and Elizabeth felt was over-familiar behaviour—touching, stroking, which is bad enough on it's own, I know, but nothing more than that. Neal has always been afraid to say anything before now, expecting a backlash. I guess if you want to give Peter the benefit of the doubt, prior to dinner Saturday, I believe he was unaware his familiarity with Neal was an issue. It’s unfortunate he took such offence given their friendship over the years.” It was still a poor excuse in Spencer's eyes, and certainly didn't warrant Peter's knee-jerk reaction.

“It’s why I don’t usually support these kinds of release programs. Too much power and control in one person’s hands over another. I thought Peter was made of stronger stuff. Anyway, with any luck this whole thing will be salvageable after everyone has had some space. Either way, tell Neal not to worry. Even if it looks as though he and Peter won’t be able to work together again, I’ll ensure he stays out of prison for the rest of his sentence.”

“That’s very good of you.”

“It’s the least I can do given that I didn’t spot what was going on under my own nose, and with my best agent. Enjoy your break, Spencer. He’s lucky to have you. I’ll speak to you in the morning.”

Neal slipped his arms around Spencer’s waist. “Your eggs are ready, sir. And thank you.” He kissed Spencer’s neck. “For dealing with everything.”

“Peter is on unpaid leave. He told Reece you accused him of inappropriate behaviour.”

Neal sighed. “I suppose I did in a way. At least that’s how it would have seemed with the amount he’d had to drink. God,” Neal broke away and rubbed his hands over his face. “I can’t believe I’m defending him.”

Spencer reached out and touched his shoulder. “Hey, come on, you don’t want him to be the bad guy. He’s your friend and you still care about him. There’s no need to beat yourself up over that.”

“He said he didn’t know.” Neal walked back inside and sat on the sofa. He dropped his head into his hands. “Didn’t know what would happen to me, what has happened to me in the past, but I can’t believe that Spencer.” Spencer took his hand. “He knows my file inside and out and whilst that information may not be in my FBI file it would be in my prison file, and he’s seen that too. He’s mentioned other things in there…a poker ring I set up, a painting class.”

“It’s in your prison file? How would they know…”

“I ended up in the infirmary a couple of times. There are some injuries you can’t explain away by saying you slipped in the shower.” Neal shrugged it off, but Spencer felt sick to his stomach.

“I had no idea it was so bad.”

“Story of my life, Spencer. Everyone wants a piece of me even if I don’t want to give it. I’ve tried not to let it change me, or how I interact with the world. I know you’ve had similar experiences.”

“Being forced to give blowjobs to horny college jocks is one thing, Neal. Being raped in a way that requires hospital attention is something else entirely.” 

“And you’re saying you were never fucked against your will by any of those horny college jocks?”

“You know I was. I told you about it. But they never put me in the hospital.” Not when they were fucking him anyway. They’d beaten him up a lot, and some of those sessions ended in visits for stitches. They broke his wrist one time. But he’d never needed medical attention because they’d fucked him too hard, or too rough, or for too long.

“Yeah, well maybe it was because you were only fifteen at the time. Look, I don’t want to get into a disagreement with you. Especially about what other people have done to us when we didn’t want, ask for, or deserve it.”

“You’re right. It doesn’t matter anyway, as you said, we don’t let it change us.” Though it had changed Spencer, made him nervous, wary of people in general, shy of affection or attention. Until Neal. Neal was the first person he had been able to truly relax with and explore his feelings, his needs, his preferences in the bedroom. “We don’t let it change this, what we have. But you have every right to question Peter’s motives, and also every right to ignore them if that’s what you want to do. I just ask that whatever comes up for you, you say it, share it with me so I can help carry it.”

“Deal. Now how long before we leave for the airport? I want to make-out with you on this couch.”

“Again? I’ve only just put my pants on.”

“I’ll never have enough of you, Spencer, but it’s okay, you can keep your pants on. Just kissing, and cuddling, and more kissing.”

Spencer checked his watch and smiled. “We have time. But first, I’d like to eat, if that’s okay.”

“Spoilsport. But okay.” Neal kissed him, but it was quick, and then he sat at the table and started to eat his eggs. "Come on," he said, smirking. "They're getting cold."


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little interim fluff to tide you over. 
> 
> I couldn't find any information about whether electronic tags are allowed on commercial flights, so I winged it to suit my own needs. :P

It was much easier to get through airport security with Neal’s anklet than Spencer would have thought. It could have been helped along by Spencer’s credentials and gun, and the fact Spencer had collected the key from Hughes before they left as a precaution. Spencer appreciated the trust being placed in him, that he wouldn’t just take the anklet off for their ‘holiday’. It was also good to see the FBI taking responsibility for some of the injustices it had served Neal over the last four years. 

Las Vegas was dry and dusty, but for the first time in many years, Spencer was happy to be there. He was excited to introduce Neal to his mom, for his mom to see he wasn’t alone anymore. He knew she worried about that, when she could think to, at least, and he hoped it would relieve some of the burden from her.

The hotel was reasonable. Better than anything he would stay in with the Bureau, but significantly below the standards Neal was used to from his days as a high-flyer. Not that it seemed he minded. Spencer watched as Neal unpacked their clothes, kicked off his shoes and bounced onto the bed. His grin had an edge of promise. “Happy?” Spencer asked, taking off his gun ready to lock it in the room safe. 

“Very. Which, you know, given the circumstances…but then, when would I not be happy spending time with you.” He moved farther back on the bed until he was leaning against the headboard. “Are you just going to stand there, or are you going to join me?”

Spencer smiled. “I intend to join you as soon as I lock this away.” He took the spare bullets out of his messenger bag and put them with the revolver in the safe. He shouldn’t have any need to carry it during their stay, and certainly not to see his mother. 

“Why do you carry a revolver? I’ve never seen another agent with one.”

“I do have a couple of Glocks, one Hotch gave me, and my standard issue firearm, but I find the Smith and Wesson easier to handle. I went through some trouble with the certification process initially. One of the trainers suggested trying out the revolver and it did the trick. Besides, it’s much more me, don’t you think? Like you with your vintage suits. It sets us apart.”

“Mmm, I can see that. Not that you’d ever look like a standard suit, even if they forced you to wear Brooks Brothers.”

“I never have been ‘standard’.” He used air parentheses and it made Neal laugh. Spencer hung up his jacket in the closet and packed his messenger bag onto the top shelf. “I was recruited straight from college for an elite unit. They had to make quite a few exceptions for me to be given field agent status at all.”

“Such as?”

Spencer laughed. “Pretty much everything. I still can’t pass physical training or the obstacle course, but at least my marksmanship has improved over the years.” 

“Oh, I don’t know, I think you are physically in great shape.”

“Yeah, if the requirement was pinning you to the bed and having my wicked way with you, I would pass with flying colours.” He toed off his shoes and crawled onto the bed. “Now what’s gotten you so horny today?”

Neal grinned. “You.” He pulled Spencer in for a kiss. “Having you all to myself.” Kissed him again. “Being alone with you in a far away city, with no chance of either of us being called away.” Another kiss, longer, harder. “Sensing a taste of freedom in the very near future.” He tugged at Spencer’s shirt. “And just you, really.”

“It seems there’s a lot I’m responsible for. Maybe I should consider doing something about it.” He reached for Neal’s zipper and unfastened his pants, pushing them down and off.

“Oh, you definitely should. We have a lot of time on our hands, and I happen to know you only brought seven books with you and I didn’t bring any art supplies.”

Spencer started on Neal’s shirt, making short work of it, and throwing it on the floor. He grinned. “Whatever will we do?”

 

“At some point we may need to leave the room to eat,” Spencer said, resisting the urge to thrust as Neal licked along the underside of his cock. Sexually, there wasn’t a chance of it going anywhere. He was all out. 

“Are you sure? Because I saw a very interesting room service menu on the desk over there.” Neal nibbled his hipbone and Spencer giggled. 

“Ticklish, stop.” He grabbed Neal by the hair.

“Ow…”

“Stop that, you know I can’t control myself when I’m being tickled. I don’t want to have to explain a black eye to my mother.”

“On you, or me?”

“Both, probably. I have no control over my limbs, anything could happen.”

“When are we going to see her anyway?”

“I thought we could have the rest of today and tomorrow for ourselves.”

Neal slipped out of Spencer’s hold and licked a nipple. “Mmm, I like that idea.”

“You are insatiable.” He petted Neal’s head. “We’ll see her Wednesday, that way if it goes badly we’ve had a couple of nice days, and if it goes well we have time to fit in another couple of visits before we leave Saturday.”

“There’s a great pool here. We could swim.”

“Sounds good. Though I didn’t see you pack any swim shorts, and I certainly don’t have any.”

“My dear, dear, Spencer, that’s what shops are for.” Neal climbed astride Spencer’s legs. “I also noticed from the literature on the night-stand that the restaurant here looks acceptable, and they have a bar with live music. We could eat and then dance.”

“This plan of yours is coming together nicely. I will need to fit in a shower before we go anywhere respectable.”

“I could wash your back for you.”

“As long as you’re not expecting any kind of action for your efforts, that would be lovely.”

“We’ve been away five minutes and already the honeymoon is fading.”

Spencer grabbed Neal’s ass. “Don’t write me off so quickly. I just need a little recovery time, food, water, and I’ll be ready to go again.”

Neal leaned over him for a kiss. “And again?”

Spencer kissed back. “And again.”


	21. Chapter 21

Not again. Neal sighed, a heavy, irritated sigh and Spencer gave him an apologetic look. It wasn’t his fault, of course, and Neal wasn’t irritated with him. He was secretly pleased, in fact. It was about time Spencer recognised how incredibly attractive he was. Unlike Neal, when Spencer was hit on by strangers, rather than flirting it up, he tended to withdrawal, shut down, and take on a deer caught in headlights aura that seemed to make him more appealing to whatever predator had them in his sights. If he noticed at all. Most of the time, he was completely oblivious to the eyes on him.

Neal could understand the attention, to an extent, at dinner the night before, and at the bar. It itched that there was still interest in Spencer once they’d established they were together by dancing, but at a bar it wasn’t so awful, and the first…oh, four or five times it had been funny. But, come on, the Observation Wheel? 

“I’m sorry,” Neal heard Spencer say to the woman currently attempting to engage him in flirty behaviour. She’d already flat out asked for his company on a gondola ride late in the afternoon, and damn it, but they were already booked to do that. “I am really not interested which hotel you’re staying in. I don’t mean to be rude…” A couple next to them in the queue for the next car rolled their eyes and whispered to each other. “I’m here with someone.”

“Oh,” the woman said in mock surprise. “Where is she?”

“I’m right here,” Neal said, stepping up and slipping an arm around Spencer’s waist. “I’ve been here the whole time, and yeah, enough is enough.” There was a moment of confusion on the woman’s face before the penny dropped. “That’s it, sunshine. Move along the bus.” The woman flushed with embarrassment and melted into the rest of the group waiting, but Neal couldn’t bring himself to feel guilty.

“Oh, god,” the guy from the couple said to Neal, “I thought she’d never get it. That was painful.”

“Unfortunately, it seems to happen a lot here.” Spencer kissed Neal’s temple. It was an act of supplication that burned, but he’d deal with that later. “If it carries on, I’ll be glad to get back to New York.”

“Don’t say that,” Spencer said, nuzzling the side of his head.

“Honeymoon?” the guy asked. “We’re on an anniversary trip. Got married here three years ago today.” He thrust out his hand. “I’m Geoff, this is my wife, Natalie.”

Neal shook his hand, noting Spencer’s slight wince. “We’re just on a short break. Change of scenery. This is Spencer.” Spencer waved, as did Natalie. 

The conversation continued about local things. The fish was good at Aquaknox, Chada Street for Thai, don’t go home without trying the SW Steakhouse at the Wynn—they serve caviar as a starter, or visiting the hidden cocktail lounge at Bavette’s.

“That’s one we’d miss. Spencer isn’t a great drinker.”

“Huh,” Geoff said, giving Spencer the once over. “It takes all sorts, I guess. Gambler?”

“A long time ago.” Spencer smiled. “I’m banned from every casino here.”

“Card counter. Impressive. And a good enough reason not to drink.” Geoff had a twitchy edge to him Neal recognised. It was barely eleven o’clock, but Geoff looked like he needed a drink. “You guys fancy joining us for lunch after the wheel?”

Neal was about to decline the offer, but Spencer stepped up first. “We actually have a lot booked in for today, but maybe we could meet for dinner tomorrow night. If you’re free.”

“Tomorrow. What time do we leave, honey?” Geoff looked at Natalie, a petite woman with hair bleached so blonde it was whiter than white, all tied up in ribbons and beads. 

“We’ll be gone by five, baby. No time for dinner.”

“Ah, well, that’s a damn shame.” Geoff handed Neal a card—Landscape Architecture and Design. “Call me if your evening opens up.”

They continued chatting, enjoyed the Observation Wheel together and went their separate ways. 

“Verdict?” Neal asked Spencer once they’d settled into the corner of a coffee shop. Neal had opted for a caramel macchiato as a change from his usual. Spencer was nursing an americano with a double espresso shot. 

“On our new friends?” Neal nodded. “Geoff would have spent much of the lunch trying to convince me to try the tables at one or other of the casinos, they would have ordered the most expensive items on the menu along with several bottles of wine and conveniently been unable to pay. What did you see?”

Neal grinned. They had been playing at people watching since they'd arrived, testing the profiler training against the confidence man's expertise. So far, it seemed the main difference was the focus. Profilers looked for underlying motive that would suggest behaviour, and tells that gave away established patterns. The confidence man looked for the tells but for them it was to exploit established patterns that could be used as weaknesses. “Much the same. He wanted the bar, she’s a foodie. They latched on to your quiet way and my expensive suit and figured we’d be worth a good meal. I’ve played that one enough times to recognise it from any angle. Nice couple though. Did you think I was going to agree to lunch?”

“I hadn’t thought about it. I just knew we didn’t have time.”

“And why is that?”

“It’s a surprise.”

“Another one? After the champagne breakfast this morning.”

“I’ve discovered I like to spoil you.” Spencer leaned back in his chair and looked closer for Neal’s reaction. “Is that a problem?”

“You know it isn’t. Just be careful. I’ll start to get used to it.”

“That is my intention.” There was a look in Spencer’s eye Neal hadn’t noticed before. Part challenge, part promise, and something else. Something he wasn’t quite sure of.

 

“Have you been to Venice?” The gondola ride had been fun, and funny. Spencer was not confident getting in and out of the boat and for a split-second Neal thought he would make a splash. 

“No, I haven’t been to Europe at all.” Spencer opened the door to the hotel room and waved Neal through. “Maybe you can show me around your favourite places in the future.”

“I’d start with Paris, Seville, Naples, oh, the Cote D’Azur. So many places I want you to see, Spencer. It’ll take a lifetime.”

“Now that,” Spencer reeled him in for a kiss. “I like the sound of.” He pulled away and looked at his watch. “No time for what I’d like to do to you, right now.”

“And why is…” There was a knock at the door.

“I do believe your surprise is here. Open it.”

Neal opened the door. “Moz, Penelope? What are you doing here?”

“We are here to help.” Garcia pushed her way past him into the room, suitcase dragging behind. “Don’t worry, we have our own rooms. This is my tech trolley.”

“It’s good to see you outside of New York,” Mozzie said, patting Neal on the shoulder as he passed. “Is there wine?”

Neal looked to Spencer. “I thought while we were here we could use some help making sure the Bureau doesn’t make Hughes go back on his promise of keeping you out of jail.”

“I have almost everything ready to go,” Garcia said, unloading a laptop from her case, and making herself comfortable at the desk. “I’ll need your signature for a few things, hence the need to stop by, but then I can register our request for commutation. The process is a slow one. It’s still likely to be at least a month before we even get a date, so I’ve added a few clauses here and there to ensure you can’t be returned to custody in the interim, and a request for your GPS tracker to be removed immediately they receive and register the request, which, like I said, slow process, could be a week or two.”

“I’ve been helping look at the immunity clause,” Mozzie said. “And we’ve cracked it. Once they sign on the dotted line, they won’t be able to pursue charges for anything prior to Hughes taking over your contract.”

“I don’t know what to say.”

Spencer kissed his cheek. “You don’t have to say anything. This is how it should have been from the beginning. And besides, as I said earlier…I like to spoil you.” Neal teared up. He couldn’t help it. It was too much. “Hey, hey,” Spencer pulled Neal against his shoulder. “Don’t cry.”

“You don’t understand…” A sob broke in Neal’s chest. “I don’t…you…oh god.” He wiped his face. “Thank you. Thank you, so much.” 

 

It was a long night, finalising details, rewriting paragraphs in legal speak, going through everything over and over to make sure they hadn’t missed anything, and it was ironclad. They stopped for a couple for hours for dinner, room service so as not to break the mood, but enough to catch up and dream of potential futures should the plan be successful. 

They were wrapping up ready to head off to their respective rooms when Moz called Neal to one side. “I’ve arranged that other thing for you. All booked and paid for, and I changed your return flights. You just need to register the change with Hughes, so he can inform the Marshals of your planned deviation.”

“Got it. Thanks, Moz. Do you think he’ll like it?”

“How could he not, it’s a secluded luxury spa break with his beloved? I mean, this place is nice and all, but you’ll have a private pool to swim naked, masseuse service to your room. You’ll never have to get dressed. It’s giving him a taste of your life, Neal. The unfettered you.”

“That’s what I’m worried about. What if he doesn’t like it. He doesn’t have much patience for the pretentious.”

“Then it would be better to find that out now.”

It was a worry. It would always be a worry until Neal knew once and for all how Spencer would feel about Neal’s ‘little pleasures’. And it wasn’t as though he needed it, or even wanted it all the time…but every now and then Neal liked to luxuriate in the finer things. Having Moz book them into Amangiri for a couple of nights before they returned to New York would go some way to show Spencer what that entailed. Spencer knew Neal still had money. Money and loot from his previous life. He hadn’t suggested Neal shouldn’t fall back on that wealth once his sentence was up. The extension to their trip would certainly test the boundaries. Neal just hoped it wouldn’t break them.


	22. Chapter 22

Spencer checked in with Hughes, ensuring he was aware of the paperwork they’d just filed. 

“Spencer, I’m one hundred percent in support of this. As soon as they contact me, I’ll let you know. The fact Neal has successfully had a week away and yet will have returned to New York as scheduled will be my evidence he’s ready for the tracker to be removed prior to any hearing on his sentence.”

“It means a lot, Reece. Thank you. Any news on Peter?”

“I have a meeting with him this morning, but he won’t be back to work until next week. I’m hoping the time off will help him see sense. He and Caffrey have history, but they have achieved a great deal together for the Bureau. It would be a shame to see it end this way.”

“It would be nice to think Neal could potentially have a position as a consultant after the commutation. He’s enjoyed his work with you.”

“And I would be happy to keep him on, but as you know I’m leaving shortly. There is no official word as to my replacement as yet.”

“The new role they asked Peter to consider, could it not be combined with yours?”

“I doubt it’s something the powers that be have considered. I’ll suggest it. Though with the way Peter is acting at the moment I don’t know that either role is suitable for him.”

“It’s a blip. He has years of service behind him to vouch for that promotion.”

“We’re only ever as good as our last performance review, Spencer. I’ll speak to you later.”

Wasn’t that the truth. Years of exceptional service could be written off with one bad decision. The whole mess with The Replicator had been about that. So many lives lost, people tortured, and for what? Because you’re only as good as your last performance review. And even then, the chances are you’re a scape goat for some higher up who doesn’t want egg on their face. From what Spencer had gathered with Neal’s stories, and his and Peter’s files, at least Peter wore his own mistakes. They stopped with him. Maybe Peter needed a helping hand to get out of this one. 

Spencer wandered back through to the bedroom. He was at Neal’s side in an instant, as he curled in on himself, head in one hand, the other holding his phone to his ear. “Who is it?” he whispered. Neal didn’t answer him, just leaned against his shoulder. 

“I don’t know what to say, Elizabeth. No. I’m not telling you why we’re here.”

“Give me the phone.” Spencer’s tone was enough that Neal didn’t hesitate. “Elizabeth, it’s Spencer. What exactly is going on?”

“That’s what I’d like you to tell me. Peter is fuming. I don’t know what you two think you are up to…”

“Stop. Neal is no longer Peter’s concern.”

“You say that like it means something. Peter and Neal have almost twelve years history, Spencer. That doesn’t just end overnight. Look, I don’t want Neal upset anymore than you do, but this is my husband, and I will fight for him.”

“You’re fighting the wrong people.”

“Peter found out you’re in Las Vegas. He intends to go over Reece’s head to make a formal complaint about his treatment…”

“His treatment…what about sending Neal back to prison, what kind of treatment was that for someone who supposedly cares so much after twelve years?” 

“Peter is going to tell them your trip is proof Neal needs to be back in jail. He’s manipulated you and Reece into allowing him to do what ever the hell he wants. I’ve seen him do it before, Spencer.”

“Enough. You don’t get to phone Neal and blame him for Peter’s mistakes. And this is a mistake, Elizabeth. You need to tell Peter to do a little research before he does anything else. You want to fight for him, stop him from making a career ending mistake. And tell him he needs better sources.”

“I want to speak to Neal.”

“No. And I’m going to ask you, as his friend, not to call him again until we are back in New York, and even then, not about Peter and the mess he’s getting himself into. If you do, I will report it, and it will go against Peter as harassment.”

“You can’t…”

“I can, and I will. Neal has been through enough. You have to stop punishing him for Peter’s behaviour.” Spencer took a breath. “Goodbye, Elizabeth.” He threw Neal’s phone on the bed. “Are you okay?”

“It started out friendly, and then she turned on me. I didn’t…”

“It doesn’t matter. Neal, you can’t answer the phone to her any more, okay?” 

Neal nodded. “It feels like this will never end. You must be so sick of me and my dramas.”

“I’m not going to punish you for other people’s poor treatment of you. You know, I was just thinking Peter may need some help to get out of this hole he’s digging himself. Now I know he does. I hope Elizabeth gets a chance to speak to him before he has his meeting with Reece later.” Spencer squeezed Neal’s shoulder. “This could have serious consequences, Neal. I know I don’t know him very well, and I haven’t exactly seen his best side, but I’m worried about him.”

“Moz will be back in New York by lunchtime. Maybe I can get him to stop by and have a chat with him.”

“No, that’s too risky for Mozzie. Maybe you could call Jones?”

“Okay, what time are we leaving to see your mom?”

“Another hour. We could stretch it to two.” Spencer stood to leave the bedroom to give Neal some privacy, but Neal caught his hand. 

“Can you stay close?”

“Sure.” He sat back beside Neal and kissed his cheek. Neal handed him the book he’d started reading before breakfast, and Spencer smiled. _The Book of Margery Kempe_ , his mom’s favourite. He had been reading Neal passages just in case his mom asked Neal if he’d heard of it. There wasn’t anything wrong in helping your boyfriend pass the mom test, right? And it wasn’t as though Neal needed any help with Chaucer, or 15th Century literature in general, but this was his mom, and Kempe was special to her.

He tuned in and out of the conversation. Jones was supportive of Neal’s concern and agreed to touch base with Peter without mentioning Neal’s nudge. They seemed to have a general catch up, the consensus being, things were too quiet without Peter and Neal around. There was some laughter. Things were going well with Greta. And then Neal was tossing his phone to the side and pushing Spencer back onto the bed. He climbed astride. “The call was nice and quick. Does that mean I can take my time with you before we leave?”

“I’m not sure we should…”

“Afraid mom will take one look at you and see you’ve been thoroughly debauched?”

“Uh, actually, yes.”

Neal leaned down to kiss Spencer’s neck. He pulled his shirt collar to the side and licked over Spencer’s collar bone. “That will be points in my favour, though, don’t you think?”

Spencer dropped the book to the floor. “I guess we’ll find out.”

 

As usual, his mom was thoroughly engrossed in a book when then approached her. She looked the same as always, never seeming to age in Spencer’s eyes. Her tall slender frame folded over the book as though she didn’t want the world to intrude, and she had a light woollen shawl wrapped around her shoulders. “Mom?”

She looked up, and it took a moment for her to register who was in front of her. “Spencer. What a lovely surprise.” She glanced to his side, at Neal, but didn’t mention him. “I was just thinking of writing to you, and here you are.”

“I, uh, I brought someone to meet you.” Spencer stepped to the side and tugged on Neal’s shirt sleeve. “This is Neal. You remember Neal, I’ve written to you about him.” He kept hold of Neal’s sleeve.

“Hello, Mrs Reid, it’s lovely to finally meet you.”

“Neal. Yes,” his mom looked at where Spencer was still grasping Neal’s sleeve and smiled. “Spencer has mentioned you.” She looked to Spencer. “Though maybe you haven’t told me quite everything regarding your friend?”

“That’s why we’re here to see you.”

“What ever happened to that other lovely young man you brought to see me?”

Spencer frowned. “I…what young man? I…”

“You know,” she looked at Neal. “He was very handsome. Rugged, dark skinned, well-muscled.”

“Morgan?”

“Yes, Morgan. When did you break up with Morgan?” Oh, so she was going to play it like that. 

“Now you stop that. You know very well I never dated Morgan. We just worked together.”

She smiled. “I know. But you wanted to. He wanted to. You never did tell me why you didn’t get around to it.” She patted the chair next to her. “Come and sit with me, Neal. Let’s see if I can figure out what my Spencer sees in you.” Spencer’s stomach flipped back and forth, but Neal squeezed his hand and took the seat. 

“I have a gift for you.” Neal pulled out a small package from his inside jacket pocket. It was news to Spencer, he hadn’t seen Neal buy anything, and he wish he’d checked because his mom was funny about gifts. 

They both watched as she opened the parcel. She glanced briefly at Spencer as the gift was revealed, and then at Neal before settling back on what was a small portrait. Spencer had no idea when Neal had painted it. The portrait was a three-quarter view of Spencer’s face, from the angle he’d guess he’d been reading at the time. A tendril of hair fell softly over part of his face, the rest restrained behind his ear. It wasn’t much larger than a playing card, no glass or frame, even the edges of the board had been rounded. Spencer’s heart clenched at the consideration Neal had put in to such an exquisite yet simple gift. “I sealed it with a matt varnish, so you can carry it around with worrying about it fading or chipping.”

“You painted this?”

“From memory. I think I captured the small smile he’s always hiding in the corner of his mouth, just in case he needs it.” Neal’s hand brushed lovingly over the portrait.

His mom looked at Neal. “This is how you see my Spencer?”

“I hope you like it.”

His mom reached over and patted the back of Neal’s hand. “Spencer, why don’t you go and find a nice beverage for us.”

“But…”

“It’s okay, the orderlies will make sure I don’t bite your new friend.” She waved him off. He looked over to Neal who smiled and nodded for him to go. 

Of course, his mother would be on form, though she had seemed taken aback by the gift. But then, so was Spencer. She knew very well it would take forever to arrange drinks. The last time had been thirty-four minutes and twenty seconds. He’d have to see whether he could shave some time off that. 

Twenty-seven minutes and twelve seconds later, he returned with a tray of coffee, herbal tea for his mom. “Ah, here he is,” she said. “We thought they’d mistaken you for a resident and locked you up somewhere.”

“That’s funny,” he said placing the tray on the coffee table in front of them. They went back to their conversation and Spencer realised as he listened they were quoting poetry to each other. His mother laughed, an enchanted tinkle of a sound Spencer wasn’t sure he’d ever heard before and he relaxed a fraction. 

“Neal has been confessing all your secrets, Spencer. He’s deliciously naughty. Just what you need. Though you know,” she said to Neal, “Spencer would have me believe he’s innocent and virginal. Never a mention of anything even remotely sexual in any of his correspondence…”

“Mom…”

“Yes, I know there are some things boys don’t tell their mothers, but there would usually be a hint of a little something…but not from Spencer. Luckily, I can often read between the lines, and now I’ve seen you,” she winked at Neal. “Well, it’s obvious Neal here has been ringing your bell pretty good.”

Neal laughed, and Spencer glared at him. “I don’t think that’s appropriate.”

“Spencer, she is delightful. I know now why you are such a wonder.”

“And I remember why it’s taken me so long to bring you to meet my mother.”

“Oh, come on,” she said. “I may be committed, but I’m not medicated nearly enough not to see that lump of plastic on Neal’s ankle.” They both flushed, but Diana patted Neal’s hand. “As I said, deliciously naughty. So, what did you do to earn that?”

Neal sobered, sat straighter, but looked her straight in the eye. “I was convicted of forging bonds, and I’ve served almost seven years. Three and a half in prison, and three and a half as a consultant to the FBI. My sentence is up in three and a half months.”

“And what then? My Spencer loves you. Are you going to leave?”

“I may have to leave the FBI, but I will never leave Spencer. I love him,” Neal glanced at him, “more than I’ve ever loved anyone.”

The afternoon continued with quoted works, and silly stories, until his mother tired, and it was time for them to leave. Her hand had never strayed from the portrait. She called Spencer to stay behind, and Neal went on ahead. “I know you’re a clever boy, Spencer, and Neal…he really does love you, but be careful. When a love burns so brightly, it has a tendency to leave scars. And he, well, I am happy to see you finally living. You look good. Happy. I’d like to see you again before you go home.”

“Okay. Maybe, Friday?”

She nodded and then returned to her book as though he’d never been there, but this time with the small portrait on the page in front of her.

 

“When did you find time to paint such a detailed portrait?” Spencer asked as he caught up with Neal in the lobby. He slipped his arms around Neal’s waist and kissed him before he could answer.

“I think she liked it. Do you think she liked it?”

“Thank you.”

“It’s the one thing I figured she would always want more of, but the hospital can’t provide.” Spencer frowned. “You,” Neal said, kissing the end of his nose. “That’s what I’d want. I have another one at home. Just in case.”

“The fact you have it, is one more reason to make sure you never need it. I won’t let them take you, Neal. Not for a month. Not a week. Not even a day.”

Neal nuzzled into Spencer’s neck. “Do you think I passed the mom test?”

“Definitely.” They left the hospital and walked, hand in hand to the hire car. “What was the poetry thing you were doing when I was getting coffee?”

“Ah, yes. I did wonder if you’d figure that out.”

“I didn’t want to intrude too much, so I haven’t tried to.”

“We were using poetry to describe how we see you, how much we love you, and what you mean to us.” Spencer paused, and Neal smiled. “I think she’s been waiting a long time for someone who speaks Spencer like she does.” Neal brushed his hair behind his ear. “She loves you.” He kissed Spencer’s cheek. “Almost as much as I do.” 

Almost? Spencer’s mom hadn’t always been there for him, she couldn’t be, but he had never once doubted the depth or quality of her love for him. It was unconditional. All encompassing. Undeniable. Spencer looked at Neal with new eyes. Could he really have found someone else to love him as much, maybe more than that? More was a difficult thing to measure, maybe the qualifiers were the same, but the focus was different. Neal could love him unconditionally, maybe, but not with the focus of a parent to a child. His love could be all encompassing, but it covered aspects a parent’s love never could. And yes, at the moment, Neal’s love for Spencer was undeniable. From the look in his eye, the small smile of promise on his lips, and the gentle but aching touch of his hand. But there was one thing he realised his mother had gotten wrong. Should this love ever end, there would be no scars, for the wounds would be too deep to ever heal.


	23. Chapter 23

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Explicit section in the middle with some potential triggers, so be mindful when approaching that you may want to skim that part. 
> 
> I have taken huuuuuge liberties with Aman Resorts. Apologies anyone who works there.

“You’re sure Hughes knows about this?”

“Yes, I spoke to him personally. Will you relax.” Neal handed him his bag. “I’ll leave you to pack your gun.”

“And you said Mozzie made the arrangements?”

“For the hotel and the flights. Not with Hughes. I did that.”

Spencer didn’t like last minute changes of plan. He handled them, he’d had to get used to it over the years, but it weighed heavy, especially when he hadn’t been involved in the plans or been able to check them.

“Your mom was happy to see us again today.” Neal grabbed the last book from the bedside table, pu tit in the case and zipped it up.

“Yes, I think she likes you.” He opened the safe and clipped his gun to his belt. “She still had the portrait. That’s a good sign.” Bullets into his bag, and he was ready to go. “Did you check the bathroom?”

“All clear.”

It was strange how easily they fitted together. Spencer had shared rooms before, and yes, it was different with a sexual partner anyway, but even so, there was a harmony to the way they moved around each other. As though it had always been. “And where are we going again?”

“No more questions. The car is waiting.”

The car. Not a taxi. Not a hire car. A town car. With a driver. The only thing Neal would tell him about their impromptu excursion from their…well, impromptu excursion, was that this was the final part of Neal Spencer had yet to see. And so ‘the car is waiting’ kind of made him excited and nervous at the same time. Neal wouldn’t break the law, that was a given, so that only left the high-flyer side of Neal who stayed in the best hotels, drank the most expensive wines, dined in exquisite restaurants, and burned swiftly through the millions of dollars he’d stolen over the years. Spencer knew Neal still had money. And property. And art. One of the reasons this thing they had worked was because they had both been completely upfront with each other within the first week or so. Not that Spencer had divulged financial information, but everything else was out there. Neal wanted Spencer to see who he was. He’d given Spencer every alias he’d ever had, every bank account, the location of every storage unit, and he’d made it clear he hadn’t shared it with anyone else. Not Kate, not Mozzie. Just Spencer. And if Spencer wanted him to give it all back at any point in their relationship he just had to say, because Spencer was worth more to Neal than all of it, and he wouldn’t give him up. And this seemed to be Neal showing Spencer what that life he was willing to trade for Spencer looked like. 

He took a deep breath. This was it. This weekend would unravel the last of the puzzle that was Neal Caffrey – Art Thief—alleged. Up to this point Neal’s resumé was just smoke and mirrors, stories he’d told Spencer over wine and kisses and phenomenal sex. Now Spencer would be faced with the reality. And he had an idea how that would look for him, he’d convinced himself he could write it off, that it didn’t make a difference to who they were together, but this weekend he would know for sure. Neal was as nervous as Spencer, and he figured that was a good thing, because this was something neither of them should take for granted. Spencer was FBI, after all. There was only so much he could turn a blind eye to when it came to law breaking, and although that part was in the past, finding a priceless stolen art treasure in the wardrobe, even if it had been stolen ten years previously, could be cause for a domestic dispute. 

“I’m ready,” he said to himself as much as to Neal.

“Finally. Okay, I’ve got the case. You have the new plane tickets on your phone. I have the passports.” Neal paused. “Do you have the key for the anklet?”

“Yes, yes, come on.” Spencer grinned. “The car’s waiting.”

“Oh, that’s…” Neal slapped Spencer’s ass. “Out.”

 

After stopping at a modest diner for basic needs and refreshments they carried on their journey into more and more remote desert. Spencer was beginning to think their adventure would end up as a case for the BAU when they pulled through gates and along a drive that led to a large block sandstone building. And holy crap…it was…wow. “Neal…”

Neal squeezed Spencer’s thigh. “You’re going to love it.”

They were met at the car. “Mr Caffrey, Dr Reid, welcome to Amangiri. We have reserved our most exclusive suite for your pleasure.” Everything glided. For a genius, that was all Spencer could come up with for the way they went from the car, through the lobby, to the most unbelievable hotel suite Spencer had ever seen. They had not one, not two, but three private terraces. One on the roof, one with a private pool, and one off the bedroom with a fire pit and decorated with candles and lanterns. “Your dinner will be delivered in one hour. Would you like it set on the roof terrace?”

“That’s a lovely idea.” Neal handed over a tip and received a card. 

“Call me if you need anything at all. We have 24hr service here for everything you could need.”

“Thank you.”

Neal laughed when he looked at Spencer. “You look shell-shocked.” He moved in for a kiss, but Spencer was too stunned to respond much beyond a return peck. There were attendants unpacking their case. “We should swim before dinner.” Neal leaned in close to Spencer’s ear. “This time you don’t need a bathing suit.” Spencer’s cock thickened. “You can leave the rest, thank you,” Neal said to the hotel staff, offering both a tip as they left. “What do you think?” Neal’s smile faltered. “Do you hate it?”

“Not at all. I love it.” Spencer kissed him. “I love you more, but this is…” he looked around again in awe of their surroundings, “a lovely surprise.”

“Lock your gun away so I can undress you without endangering either of us.”

 

“I have to admit I could get used to this.” The sun had set over their desert hide away. After their swim, and yes, sex in the pool, and their incredible dinner naked on the roof terrace, they had settled on a large daybed surrounded by lanterns with fine wine, soft music, and the sounds of the desert coming alive for the night. Spencer kissed over Neal’s chest, slowly making his way down to lick over a hipbone.

“Still hungry?” Neal stroked a hand through Spencer’s hair. 

“Always hungry for you.” And Spencer took Neal’s semi-hard cock into his mouth, just the tip, sucking and swirling his tongue, before taking him deeper and licking over the shaft down to the root. Soft sounds of pleasure fell from Neal’s mouth and Spencer was torn. He wanted to kiss those lips, and yet he wanted to savour the hardness in his mouth. He startled briefly when he realised a member of staff had come in to clear away their dinner dishes, but he didn’t stop, and they didn’t seem to care. It made him feel decadent, licentious, or as his mom would say, deliciously naughty. He pulled off Neal’s cock with a pop, and delved in between his legs, pushing them wide and licking over his balls and along to his hole, pressing his tongue past the tight ring of muscle. Neal tasted a little of pool chemicals, but enough like Neal to keep going, and the idea of someone watching, someone seeing him take Neal apart with his tongue had Spencer painfully hard. 

Spencer rolled Neal’s knees to his chest for better access, relishing in the groans and bitten off whimpers, and god, he wanted to fuck him so hard, push so deep into his body, but patience was needed. Even after all the months of sex, Neal still needed time to accommodate Spencer’s cock. It was long, yes, but the real challenge was the girth. It was much more than a handful fully engorged, and although Neal loved it, loved to take it fully seated, it was a process to get there. “Where is the lube?” 

“In the bathroom.” 

Damn it. Spencer wetted his fingers, and pushed in to Neal’s hole, both appreciating the burn. He sucked on Neal’s balls, taking one at a time into his mouth, but it was no good, he was going to have to leave him to go for…as he started to pull away he noticed the bottle of lube had appeared on the floor near the daybed. So that’s what your money paid for in places like this—invisible service anticipating your every need. He popped the cap and spread a liberal amount on his fingers and Neal’s hole. This time the slide was much easier, and Neal was soon ready. He allowed Neal’s legs to fall down and open, rolled him a little to the side and lifted his leg to open him up, but mostly so Spencer could see himself disappearing into Neal’s body. Slow and steady he pushed in, realising as he bottomed out that they still had quiet company buzzing around them, and god, that was so hot. Never, not ever in his wildest fantasies—all of which included Neal in some shape or form—had he ever got off on thinking he was being watched, on being an exhibitionist. But this was different. There was something quietly empowering about being seen and yet unseen. Neal clawed at him to move, begged him as he pressed back trying to take Spencer’s cock deeper. But Spencer waited. The movement around them stopped, and finally they were alone. Now it was time to take as much of Neal as he could and give everything he had. The fleeting moment of being seen was exciting, but this, this was too special to share. This was for them alone. A private moment in a remote hideaway from everyone and everything where they could just be for themselves. Yes, Spencer could get used to this. In fact, he wanted nothing but this from here on in, and that, well, that led to some major decisions that would have to wait for another day.

 

XOXOXOXOXOXOXO 

 

The sun was just peeking over the horizon when Neal woke, tangled and sweaty not knowing where he ended, and Spencer began. He hadn’t remembered making it off the roof terrace to the bed, but, god, he was comfortable. Apart from the pressing need of his bladder. He stroked Spencer’s cheek and smiled at how young he looked. He was younger than Neal, by a few years anyway, but sleeping he could almost be a twenty-something. He was sleeping well more often. Neal liked that. When they first started spending nights together Spencer would wake from nightmares dripping with sweat, cold and clammy, and it would take as much as an hour sometimes to calm him back to sleep. Neal wanted to think he was part of the reason Spencer could sleep without monsters intruding his dreams. The change of job was likely as much of it, but he didn’t think it was too awful of him to take a small ounce of credit. 

Spencer stirred, and smiled in his sleep, rolling into Neal and snuggling. Neal reluctantly unhooked himself, wincing at the ache deep inside from being well and truly fucked by a particularly energetic Spencer, and headed for the bathroom. Seeing the bath reminded him of their time in the pool the day before, and then he remembered their audience. He’d known it before in exclusive resorts, but never in America. Not that he’d been to exclusive resorts in America before this one, but he had been to Aman resorts before now, in Indonesia and Thailand, and neither would have allowed staff to stay in the suite under such circumstances. They would always quietly retreat at the first sign of any intimacy between guests. It had seemed to spur Spencer on however, so Neal wasn’t going to complain. He had realised only later, that the pause in Spencer’s stride had been to allow the staff to leave before he really let go. And…well, that was the best part, being totally and completely for themselves. 

He washed his hands, patted them dry with one of the ridiculously fluffy towels and considered their future. This was lovely, but not necessary. Neal would be happy to have this just once or twice a year as an extended break away from every day work and life. But what did every day work and life entail? The life part was easy. His life was Spencer. Work? That was overwhelmingly more difficult. It was looking more and more as though his job with the FBI was over. Realistically what could he do instead? The barista idea had been funny, and no doubt Neal would excel at it. For five minutes. Boredom was a soul killer, and as soon as there was a lull with no more customers to charm or tables to clean he’d want to be out of the door and on to the next thing. What else could he do? Salesman. Maybe luxury cars like Franklin’s CI, but the same boredom clause would apply. Telesales, like the boiler room scam they’d taken down. That had been fun for the few days, he didn’t know if it was a long-term solution. He’d enjoyed working for Adler, but with his conviction there was no way he’d land that kind of role again. Same for anything art or antiquities related. For all his life experience, he didn’t have much going for him when it came to the legitimate job market. 

“You were gone.” Spencer padded into the bathroom and wrapped him up in a reassuring hug. 

“Just thinking.”

“It’s 5.30. Think after more sleep.” Spencer grinned. “And more sex.”

“Not me, mister. My ass is still sore from last night.”

“Mmm, you can do me, or we can just cuddle.” He nuzzled. Yeah, Spencer was still asleep. Neal guided him back to the bed and settled him in. This time it was Neal playing big spoon. Having Spencer in his arms eased the fears of what would happen come Monday morning and he soon drifted back to sleep.

 

Over too soon. Neal bit back the nausea threatening as they made their way through the airport and back to uncertainty. It had been a great week. Reminiscent of the years he’d free floated around the world. He was happy to be back in New York. It was not knowing what came next that threw him through a loop. 

Spencer paused at the door of the cab. “I don’t know where we’re going.”

And therein lie the problem. “We should go to your place. You’re the only one who has somewhere to be in the morning.”

“Right.” He opened the door for Neal as the cabbie put their case in the boot, slipped in next to him and took his hand. “We should maybe…once things are more…” Spencer huffed. “I’d really like it if we had a place together.”

“You mean move in together officially?”

“Too soon?”

“Not at all, I’d love that. I…yes, we should do it.”

“I was thinking Greenwich Village is more convenient for you, it would be nice to stay near June after she’s been so good to you.”

“When is your lease up?”

“Soon. In the next month.” Spencer sighed. “I’ll miss the bath.”

This was better. This was something Neal could get behind with enthusiasm. “We should make a list of things we both can’t live without.”

“Mine only has one thing on it.”

“Your bath. Okay.”

“No.” Spencer grinned. “You.” And he leaned in for a kiss.

“You can always move in with me to begin with. So we don’t have to rush.” Neal wanted time to find the perfect place they would both love.

“You think June will be okay with that?”

“I know she will.” Neal snaked his arm around Spencer and pulled him close. “I’d like a second bedroom to use as a studio so we’re not tripping over all my stuff in the main living space.”

“Maybe a third for when Henry comes to stay.”

“I love the terrace. We may not get anything like the view from June’s, but a small balcony would be nice, don’t you think?”

“And plenty of space for books. Mmm,” Spencer leaned back and closed his eyes. “I love our new home already.”

And that brought Neal to another subject he’d been thinking about the last few days. “Spencer, do you pay for your mom’s hospital bills, her room and care?” Spencer turned into Neal’s shoulder and sighed. “A discussion for another time?”

“Another time. But soon. When we look seriously at an apartment together I should take you on a tour of my financials, as you’ve already done for me. It’s nothing to be concerned about,” he added. “Quite the opposite, in fact. But I do have to consider the implications of long-term care in the current economy.”

“And I’ll need to look realistically at work options before I can offer any firm contributions to living costs. I’ve been so spoiled at June’s.”

“Maybe this week you can run the idea past June about me moving in when my lease is up, then we can see what happens with the commutation we’ve filed and plan from there.”

“That’s good. That makes me feel happier…that we have a solid plan. I’m done with all this living by the seat of my pants thing with the FBI, never knowing where I stand. The future is looming, but this…this is good.”

“It’ll always be good, as long as we’re together.”


	24. Chapter 24

It was 8.30 by the time Spencer made it to the office. It had been hard to drag himself away from Neal going in the opposite direction home to June’s, but now he was here, he wanted to get stuck in and catch up on his workload. 

“Oh, here’s our part-time wanderer returned. How were your hols, 187?” Spencer put his bag on the desk and Dougie sat to the side of it. 

“Did you actually do anything outside of the bedroom?” Spencer turned to see Miandra approaching. “By the look of the hair, I’d say not.” She high-fived Dougie and they laughed as he flushed. 

“We had a great time, thanks. You obviously haven’t missed me in the slightest.”

“Oh, I missed you,” Dougie said. “We’ve had to listen to Reece reminding us every hour of every day he’s top dog with you out of the office.”

“Not true.” Reece appeared from his office and waved at Spencer. “Good to have you back.”

Greta waved from the conference room and popped her head around the door. “I’ll give you time to catch your breath and a coffee. Debrief in twenty?”

“Done.” Coffee was definitely the way to go, and as expected a fresh pot was already brewed and waiting. 

“So how was it, really?” Miandra asked. “Is Neal okay?”

“Everything is still up in the air as far as him working here is concerned, but yes, he’s doing okay. We filed for his commutation last Wednesday, so they should acknowledge receipt sometime this week.” Spencer sipped his coffee. It was good, but not quite what he needed. “Remind me to order an espresso machine.”

“I’ll fill in the request myself and put it on your desk for you to sign. We missed you,” she said, touching a hand to his forearm, which yeah, huge gesture. “The office is…lighter with you around.”

“Maybe it’s because I’m in love.” They both laughed. Yes, it was good to be back.

 

The meeting went well. The team had been busy. They caught him up with their individual projects, and Greta laid out the schedule for each of them for the week. Thankfully she’d left Spencer’s load a little lighter than usual for the first few days and all he had to do that day was check the files on their projects progress and sign off the four cold cases the team had closed for Corporate Fraud, Miami. 

The team filed out and Greta moved up to sit next to Spencer. “The director has said he’d like the team to take all holiday to date as soon as possible.”

“Any reason?”

“We’re three months ahead of schedule with the original plan for the team even with our new side-lines.” She shrugged. “They should have consulted us first, but hey, what would we know, right? There will be a review sometime in the next couple of months, and they’d like to look at other tasks to assign to the unit.”

“That’s fine as long as everyone on the team agrees it’s something they’d like to work on.”

She smiled. “That’s what I told him you’d say. He’s also looking at bringing forward some of the work they had planned for early next year, so he wants to make sure we’re up to date with time owed in case we are suddenly jammed.”

“Is there much outstanding?”

“Reece has the highest number of days, but he’s still running second to you even with the time you’ve taken recently. The rest of us only have a couple of weeks. I, for one, would like to take a week next month for my sister’s wedding.”

“Book the dates in the communal diary. Who do you think should schedule while you’re away?”

“You don’t want to do it?”

“I’m happy to if you think the others won’t want to have a shot at it. You know I’m all for giving everyone equal opportunities.”

“Hm, I’ll have a think.”

“Great. Get on to them about booking time will you? I’ll talk to Reece. Maybe he’d prefer to take a sabbatical with a university. Or I know he was interested in Garcia’s set up when they were talking. I could ship him off to DC for a couple of weeks if he really doesn’t want to take time off work, or even book him onto training. There’s an interesting NSA Conference coming up I know he’d love.”

“He was talking about it last week. You could really pull him entry to that?”

“Sure.” Spencer smiled. “You’d be surprised the strings I have up my sleeve. Besides, the access can’t be that tight, or clearance particularly high to attend otherwise we wouldn’t even know about it.”

She tilted her head, assessing the information as if seeing him for the first time. “Good to know.”

“Seriously, if there’s anything you’d like to look at that would benefit our overall operation, I will try to arrange it for you.” Spencer had a reasonable amount of clout in academic circles and that led to professional contacts throughout the government’s various divisions, covert and otherwise. He’d taken over much of the consultation work usually ascribed to Gideon after he left, and Spencer had brought that with him from DC, along with his position as a public notary—he was now dual commissioned for DC and New York. He was also registered as an external examiner for various universities and regularly peer-reviewed articles for prestigious publications in various disciplines. All of that added up to him knowing some very interesting and prominent people. Not to mention the higher up’s he’d encountered at various NA meetings, most of whom were happy to be called upon for the odd favour. “Anything else I should know?”

“Oh, yes… the director wants to touch base with you about plans for us to go mobile. He was talking about the end of the year.”

The director was always so full of ideas when Spencer wasn’t around. “That’s a reasonable timeframe. How do you feel we should tackle it?”

“In as far as…?”

“I see we could go one of two ways. The whole team flies out, or we work a roster and always have someone, or maybe two at home base for anything that comes over the desk and to keep the wheels oiled here.”

“I go with the roster. I don’t like to think of us just abandoning ship every other week. One person would be enough here, but two would be better for team morale.”

“Good, that was my first choice. Mock up some potential ideas for rosters and sketch out work assignments for those staying at home base. We can run it by the team at the Friday meeting.”

“Excellent.” She didn’t move, and Spencer looked up at her. “It’s good to have you back.”

“It’s surprisingly good to be back.”

“Did you have a meeting scheduled?”

“Not that I know of.” Greta gestured over his shoulder and he turned to see Peter waiting in the bullpen. “And the day was going so well.”

“I can run interference. Tell him to come back later with an appointment.”

“No, best to get it over with.” Peter waved and attempted an awkward smile. Spencer put his pen down. “Send him in.”

Spencer didn’t stand up to greet him and Peter hovered. “Is this a good time? I only need ten minutes, but I could come back…”

“It’s fine. Take a seat.”

Peter pulled up a chair but left an empty one between them. “I know you’re probably fed up with hearing it, but I’d like to apologise.” Peter put up his hand to stop Spencer interrupting, not that he would have, because this would be interesting. “Just hear me out. I...” He shook his head. “I have no excuses for my actions, so I won’t try to justify them, and I know it’s Neal who needs to hear the apology, but I wanted to thank you for stopping me make a monumental mistake that could have finished my career.” He stopped to breathe, and Spencer thought it best to give him space to get whatever it was off his chest before making any comment. “I’m sorry, by the way, about your mother, and for Elizabeth intruding on that time. She was worried about me. She feels awful.” He took in Spencer’s silence and frowned. “Is this okay?”

“I’m willing to listen, Peter, otherwise you wouldn’t be here.”

“Right. I’ve been wracking my brain trying to figure out what my problem is…with you. You know things were great with me and Neal before…well, other than the touching thing, but I really didn’t know…” He huffed. “Anyway, I realised what it is. Why things unravelled when you came into the picture. I’ve never thought of myself as selfish, or self-absorbed, but…you know Neal has come such a long way since working here, but it’s always been a struggle to keep him the right side of the line. I know he’s appreciated and valued our friendship but without that anklet he’d have never stayed clean.” Spencer knew Neal was far from clean even with the anklet. He’d stolen a Degas right out from under Peter’s nose and base jumped off the building seconds before getting caught. All while Peter thought he was locked in a closet. “But the success, his success, was all on me. All on my handling of him. Until you came along. Now all of a sudden Neal is a puppy dog following you around. He sits, stays, and he’d do it without a tracker…he’s docile. You’ve taken the fight out of him against the system, taken the criminal out of him, and…” Peter was visibly uncomfortable. “I’m not in love with him. Elizabeth was wrong about that, so wrong. I don’t deny we have chemistry, and in a different life maybe…but this has never been about that. This is about you stealing my thunder for a job well-done in rehabilitating a known criminal and fugitive. But you know what I realise? It doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter because the victory belongs to Neal, not you or me, but Neal. Because he’s the one who’s changed.” He let out a breath that suggested he was finished. 

“I never intended to steal your thunder or take any credit for the work you’ve done with Neal. And, Peter,” Spencer waited until Peter looked up at him, “you’re the one who took the fight out of him. He wanted to work for the FBI long before I came along and that was all you, and the example you set for him to be a law-abiding citizen.”

“You really think so?”

“I know so. That’s why this has hit Neal so hard. He’s lost without your friendship, Peter.”

“He probably hates me.”

“He feels guilty for not hating you, and you know if you said you wanted to work with him again he’d jump at the chance.”

“I don’t know how that would work after everything.”

“You’ve been through worse.”

Peter snorted. “We have, that’s true.”

“And the pressure is off you both now he isn’t directly under your control.” Peter was thinking, but maybe not far enough in the direction Spencer would like him to. “And you know at some point this week Neal’s anklet will come off. Imagine how much better it will feel to get Neal to his commutation with him having stayed in line without his anklet. The two of you still have so much work to do together.”

“You really think he’d go for that?”

“Have you told Hughes any of this?”

“He’s the one who said to come and speak with you.”

“And I bet he said the same, that you and Neal should finish up his sentence together?”

“He did.”

“And when you take over from him maybe you’d consider taking Neal on as a full-time consultant.”

“He did say that too, but I’m not sure I’m in the running any more for either promotion.”

“You are. I made sure of it.”

Peter’s eyes narrowed. “Why would you do that?”

“Because I’ve read your file, Peter, and you are an exemplary agent. You’ve given a lot to the Bureau and you deserve to be recognised for more than your last performance review. I also suggested they could combine the positions for you to stay in New York. With Jones as ASAC and Dianna as SSA, you’d have time to co-ordinate White Collar around the country and take you and the team mobile to trouble-shoot if needs be.”

“Take Neal, you mean?”

Spencer smiled. “It just may coincide with my team becoming mobile, and there may be occasions where we could potentially head in the same direction, but that’s not the reason behind it. Neal needs to feel challenged, to feel like an active part of a team…important. Better that team be the FBI than the ones he’s gotten caught up with in the past.”

“Do you think he would see me?”

“I’ll talk to him this evening. Maybe the two of you could have lunch tomorrow.”

“I’d rather you were there the first time.”

“Whatever you need. I’m back in New York for at least the next few months.”

“I’ll be supporting his commutation, even if he says he doesn’t want to work with me anymore. And I need you to understand I didn’t know…about what happened to him in prison. I was in prison for weeks and, well I guess I wasn’t in general population because of safety concerns. But I’d have never, even with my head the way it was, I just wouldn’t have…”

“Okay, well, you can tell him that when you see him, and he needs to hear it.”

“Right.” Peter stood to leave. “Thank you.”

“We all need people to give us the benefit of the doubt sometimes.” And just because he couldn’t not say it. “Even when we’ve been a complete ass to all concerned.”

Peter laughed. “Got it. Yes, I was.” Yes, he was. But maybe, just maybe, Spencer would finally get a chance to see the Peter Neal told stories about. The Peter Neal looked up to and wanted to be like. The Peter Neal still wanted to call friend and colleague. Maybe they would catch a break and Neal could stay with the FBI without having to worry about how to spend his time whilst Spencer was at work still enjoying his job. Because everyone needed to feel part of something, and for Neal feeling he had purpose, that he was contributing in some way to something bigger than he was would be a fundamental component to his happiness. And a fundamental component to Spencer’s own happiness was ensuring Neal’s.


	25. Chapter 25

“Missing me already, or are you just checking up on me?” Neal sounded happy, upbeat, and Spencer relaxed. He’d been worried Neal would mope within ten minutes of getting to June’s, having nothing but laundry on his agenda.

“Missing you, of course. What are you doing?”

“Is this going to turn into phone sex? Because if it is, I should warn you I’m not alone. June and Moz are here. Though, uh…an audience is kind of your thing now, right?”

“I can attest to that,” Mozzie added from the background and Spencer heard June laugh. 

“Neal…” Spencer scolded, though he was smiling at the reference. He shifted in his seat at the vivid memory.

“Oh, don’t sound so scandalised. I’m teasing you. How is work? Are they punishing you for having been away? Wait…Dougie teased you about having bedhead, didn’t he?”

“Actually, it was Miandra, but everything is good here. The world ticked on by without me in it.”

“Well, I miss you, even if they didn’t.” There was a pause because, yeah, it was difficult being apart after living every breath together for the last week. “So is this a sex call, because, you know, we haven’t done that yet and when I said I missed you…”

“Stop. I’m blushing. I’ll never be able to look June in the eye again.” 

Neal laughed. “I’m thinking of taking up erotic art, by the way.”

“That…wait, what?”

“There’s one particular part of you I’m very fond of so I thought I’d have a go at sketching it. I mean, it really is beautiful, it should be recorded for posterity.”

Spencer was confused. “I have to say I’m impressed,” Mozzie called in from the background. “And by June’s smile when she saw the pictures, I’d say she is too.” And the penny dropped. 

“Neal, you had better be joking.” Neal teased him enough about the size of his cock, he didn’t need paintings of it all over the apartment. Especially not for people to see.

“Oh, relax. I won’t give one to your mother. I’m joking. Of course, I’m joking. The contents of your pants are a secret only I get to see. I am sketching sleepy, adorable Spencer though. I’ll never get enough of that…or the other…”

“Stop, you’re so…”

“Deliciously naughty?” 

Spencer could hear the smile in Neal’s voice and his heat skipped a little. “I’m glad you have company actually, because I’m calling to tell you Peter stopped by.”

Silence. A hitched, steadying breath. “And?”

“His apology routine is really coming along. He’s supporting your commutation, and he’d like to see you for lunch tomorrow to discuss you coming back to work.”

“Oh, god…” A half breath, that could have held a breaking sob. “You are amazing, you know that?”

“This wasn’t anything to do with me. Hughes, perhaps, but Peter already had the speech ready to go. It was heartfelt and genuine. Do you think you’ll be okay to see him tomorrow, or do you need more time?”

“I can do tomorrow.” He sounded as though he was asking himself a question. “Yeah, tomorrow. What time will you be home?”

“The usual, bar any disasters. Greta has been kind to me. Other than sign off on a new espresso machine, there isn’t much for me to do today.”

“Espresso machine? There will be a regular flow of visitors to your office from now on, probably the entire White Collar team.”

Spencer chuckled. “I love you, and I’m missing you like crazy. Can’t wait until you’re back in the building so you at least feel closer.”

“And I love you. Stay safe, Spencer.” Stay safe. That seemed easier to do these days. Easier than at the BAU, anyway, even if not statistically as safe as working at a regular job. Law enforcement always came with a risk. At least he wasn’t out on the streets every day like New York’s finest; that was a risky job. 

He signed off on the espresso machine and thought about the things he’d had planned for last Monday before everything went to hell in a hand basket. He needed to check in with Garcia on Morgan, but that was a lunch time call, and only if the BAU weren’t in the middle of some horror story. Oh, and he was going to speak to J.J. about Henry. He’d been putting the call off for weeks. Ever since Garcia had come to stay. That was a call for this evening when they would both have space to say things they needed to. Spencer knew from his visit to the hospital to see Morgan that J.J. was mad with him for not coming to see Henry sooner, for not letting her know he was okay, and she had every right to be, just as Spencer had every right not to have. 

He raised an eyebrow as he perused the file in front of him. The team had recovered £435 million dollars in one of the fraud cases last week. That was the espresso machine justified and paid for and with just one case. Nice. And that was the difference between this job and the BAU. In this job, he felt as though he was making headway, achieving something. Although every life saved with the BAU was a miraculous and rewarding achievement in its own right, Spencer always felt like in the larger scheme of things they were taking two steps backwards. Morgan had said it after the case they’d had with the brothers kidnapping and killing the homeless in Detroit for medical experiments, for every monster they stopped there were innumerable offenders they didn’t even know they should be looking for. That had been a bad case for all of them, just before Hotch… He realised his hand was shaking. He put down his pen and went for coffee—law enforcement’s answer for everything, along with donuts. They hadn’t gotten into the habit of keeping sweet treats in the office yet. Greta was too conscious of her figure for that. It brought back the memory of the farm again, the half-eaten piglet carcasses everywhere, and his sudden comprehension there would be no bodies as he watched the huge creatures snuffling in the mud. He fought back the bile rising in his throat. 

“Are you okay? You look a bit green.” When he looked up, there was real concern in Miandra’s eyes. 

“Yeah, just, uh…sometimes the details of BAU cases come back to bite me.”

“You want to pop out for some air? I was just going to do the lunch run for later, you could join me.”

“Do you know what? I think I will.” Bustling New York was the last thing he actually wanted, but the best thing to shift his mind off eighty-nine pairs of shoes lined up on a tarp in the middle of nowhere. 

 

“You’ve had a bad day,” Neal said as soon as Spencer walked in. He put down his paint brush, wiped his hands on a rag and made his way to the door. Neal took his messenger bag, placed it on the ground, and pulled him into a hug. He always knew. Always saw when the past refused to stay in the past and hovered around his head like a black cloud over a cartoon character. Spencer forced a smile, but he knew he didn’t have to say or explain anything. Neal helped him unclip his gun and put it in the wall space behind the picture before leading Spencer through to the bathroom. He stripped them both off slowly, taking care to stroke and smooth over Spencer’s hair and face, and guided him gently into the shower. He soaped him up, rinsed him off, peppering his body with light kisses, washing his hair, and always making sure to maintain contact, until it was time to wrap him up in a towel. He sat him down in the kitchen and towel dried his hair, massaged moisturiser into his shoulders, working out the tension until Spencer yawned. Neal smiled, and led him to the bed, laying him down, and wrapping him up. Whispered promises, and declarations of love, accompanied with butterfly kisses helped him drift off into sweeter dreams. 

 

“Oh, god…” Spencer stretched. “What time is it?”

“Still early. Feeling better?”

Spencer grinned, pulling Neal close. “Much better. Thank you.”

Neal allowed Spencer to ease him into the position he wanted and settle between his legs. “Just better, or horny better?”

“The latter. Definitely, the latter.” Spencer moved against Neal’s hard body, and Neal responded, wrapping a leg over Spencer’s hip. He sought out Neal’s lips for a bruising kiss and slipped a hand between them for extra friction. Neal supplied a dash of lube, and they were soon well on the way to their finish. “Promise you’ll always be here,” Spencer whispered as the need grew stronger. 

“Always. I promise.”

And even though Spencer knew the promise was an impossible one, it was enough to quiet the demons and tip him over the edge, spilling into his hand and over Neal’s stomach with Neal following soon after. 

Neal kissed and nibbled over Spencer’s shoulder. “We need another shower.”

Normally Spencer would be in full agreement, but he held Neal close. “Not yet. Just…stay…”

“Are you sure you’re okay?” 

“I will be. I just need to hold on for five more minutes.”

“I’m not going anywhere, Spencer. Whatever happens with the FBI, I’m here with you, for the long haul.”

“I know…” he sighed, hiding his face against Neal’s chest. “But there are things we can’t control…we can’t, we don’t always get what we want.”

“Ah...” Neal didn’t say any more, he didn’t need to. He understood just as well as Spencer that people can be taken from you, rather than them leaving by choice. Ninety percent of the time, especially with the help Spencer had been getting from Mozzie on changing the focus of memories, Spencer could live his life without worry or fear that his happiness, that Neal, wouldn’t be stripped away from him without a moment’s notice in some senseless act of violence. And in that ninety percent, the world was full of potential and glorious dreams of perfect futures, of new apartments, travelling the world, and growing old together. Then a stray thought would land on a memory that triggered an undesirable response and in that ten percent it was all about catching the spiral into dark places and dragging his mind back to the light, to the present, to the softness of Neal’s lips on his, the feel of Neal’s hands in his hair, and the smell of Neal’s skin, slick with sweat and the smell of sex, or clean and fresh with a hint of that heady musk that made Spencer want to devour him on the spot. Here and now. That’s where Spencer wanted to live. In the here and now. On days like today, with haunted echoes of past horrors it was harder to stay in that place. Harder to pin down the ninety percent. Spencer was learning not to bury the nightmares, or give them strength, but to witness them and allow them to float on through his mind and back to the shadows so the sun could shine again. 

 

“Reid? Is everything okay?”

“Hi, J.J., everything is good. Is it a convenient time for a chat?”

“Uh, sure…I, uh…” He heard her say something, presumably to Will. “Okay, what can I do for you.”

“Are you sure it’s a good time?”

“Yeah, we’ve just finished dinner. Will was already clearing away the dishes. Henry is in bed.”

“I’m sorry I haven’t called to chat before. I needed time.”

“I get it, Spence, really. And I know you’ve been calling Henry every week, so thank you for that. He misses you.”

“That’s why I’m calling, actually. I wanted to ask if maybe he could come and stay for a weekend. I thought you all could,” he added before she could say no. “Well, I thought you and Will could book into a hotel for a grown-up weekend and Henry could stay with me. We could do things together maybe, during the day, but then you and Will could have some time together.”

“Wow, that…Spence, that sounds amazing. If I knew where you were, of course.”

“Yeah, I know. I’m in New York.”

“You moved to New York?”

“I have my own team here. Not BAU, obviously, but it’s good. I enjoy it. I’m good at it.”

“From what I saw of you last month, it’s treating you pretty well too. You looked good.” He heard the shift in her voice. “Would there be a special someone responsible for that by any chance?”

“Yes, and that’s the other thing. We are kind of living together, so when Henry stays…”

“She must be really special.”

“He, and yes, he is. He’s a consultant to the FBI. We met at the office.” Spencer tried to settle his excitement so he wouldn’t just blurt out everything. “He’s the one, J.J., I even took him to meet my mom last week.”

“I’m so happy for you. You deserve it.”

“He does still have his own place, so if you don’t want him to stay while Henry is here…”

“It’s fine with me, but I’ll run it past Will. Does he like kids?”

“Yeah, he’s great with them. Actually, you can ask Hotch. We bumped into him and Jack last month when they were visiting Beth. I know he won’t have told you, but we had lunch together. Jack loved Neal, and they got on really well. I have good friends here. They all want to meet Henry. His itinerary is already planned. He’ll be thoroughly spoiled.”

“That’s great. I’m not sure when it will be though. I’ll co-ordinate with Will and try to get a weekend, maybe before Henry goes back to school.”

“I have to ask you not to mention anything to the others. I’m getting there, but I have to take it slow.”

“As long as it’s moving in the right direction. Does this mean I can call you now?”

“Sure. And, I’ll wait to hear from you about dates.”

“Okay. I love you, Spence. We all miss you.”

“I know. Bye.” He uncurled himself from the sofa and sought out Neal for a hug.

“You didn’t tell her,” he said, rubbing a firm hand over Spencer’s back.

“It didn’t seem appropriate. I can’t ask her to leave her five-year-old son with me and my new boyfriend and then casually drop you’re a convicted felon into the conversation.”

“But she’ll need to know. You can’t leave it to Hotch to cover the bases.”

“I’ll tell her.” He didn’t know how, but he’d figure out a way. Maybe Garcia would have an idea. Maybe she could be a buffer in case it didn’t go down too well. “You know it’s not because I’m ashamed of it, right? Because I’m not and neither should you be.”

“Sometimes I am, but mostly I’m not. I occasionally feel bad about not being more ashamed but…” He shrugged. “It just how it is. I didn’t physically hurt anyone, and I’ve done some good with the experience I gained.” He kissed Spencer’s temple. “Besides, if I hadn’t have been convicted, I’d have never meet you. Having you makes all of the other stuff okay.” He lifted Spencer’s chin to look into his eyes. “And I mean, all of it. You understand that, right.”

“You know I do, because it’s the same for me.”

“Just checking.” He smiled, but there seemed to be something he wasn’t saying, something weighing on him. 

“If everything, okay?”

This time the smile was genuine. “I’m just nervous about tomorrow, about seeing Peter. I don’t know if I’m ready to let go what he did, and that scares me, because if I can’t…god.” He scrubbed his hands over his face. “If I can’t, Spencer, I could blow my chances of staying on at the Bureau and I just don’t know what else I would do. Other than felony crimes, it’s all I know how to do.”

“Then we should look at options tonight, take the pressure off. I’ll make the coffee, you get paper and pen.” 

 

It was a short, reluctant list. Neal was not good at seeing past his conviction and refused to list many of the real options because of what he called ‘the huge black smudge’. There were a few exciting ideas, however, mostly around Neal’s talent as an artist. 

“That could work, you know,” Neal said, flicking the end of the pen against the list. “If Hagen can still get work as a restorer on day release from prison, that is a real possibility for me, especially with a reference from Hughes, and maybe Sarah. I did authenticate the Raphael for Sterling Bosch, after all. Nobody needs to know I knew it was the real one because I’d stolen it.” Spencer laughed, and Neal smirked. “You secretly love that I walk a fine line, don’t you?”

“It’s no secret, dearest.” Spencer kissed Neal’s hand. “I do love the rogue in you, but it’s your pure heart that captivates mine.”

“Yeah, okay. Oh…” Neal jumped up and retuned a moment later with one of his sketch pads. “I thought you’d like to see these.” He flicked through the pad and stopped, biting his lip as he looked over the page. When he turned it around, Spencer nearly choked.

He grabbed for the pad. “You said you were joking. Please tell me you didn’t show these to June and Moz?”

“I would never.” 

Spencer flicked through the next few pages, and blanched at the many, many sketches of his cock from all angles and in various stages of hardness. Some were just outlines, other’s much more detailed with Neal's slender fingers wrapped around it, and the last one, oh, god… Spencer’s cock swelled at the image of his cock disappearing into Neal’s tight pucker. “This one is…”

“I know, isn’t it?” Neal’s voice was broken, husky. “There is a huge market for erotic art. I think I may have found my calling.”

“And I think that would be a harder profession to get past J.J. and Will than you being a convicted felon, but yeah, you have an eye for it.”

“Maybe I should do some more research. Get some more ideas.” He took the pad from Spencer’s hands. “Want to help?”

“What kind of partner would I be if I didn’t support your talents? Just, promise me…the ones of us, even though people won’t realise its us, but the ones of us stay private, just for you and me.”

“I wouldn’t share you, Spencer.” He pulled Spencer towards the bed, slipped his shirt off over his head and reached for his pants. “Not for anything.”


	26. Chapter 26

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A mini chapter to get me where I need to be for the next one...more soon.

The nineteenth floor had played neutral ground to the Peter/Neal reunion. So far so good. No blood had been spilled, but things were far from comfortable. After half an hour of pleasant chitchat and picked at food, Neal was still fidgety and Peter nervous. 

“This is ridiculous,” Spencer said to them. “If you’re ever going to trust each other enough to work together you need to talk. Really talk. Shout if you have to. It won’t work if you don’t clear this…standoff thing you have going on.” 

“You’re right,” Peter said, throwing his hands in the air. “This is never going to work. Not like it used to.”

“Oh, right, and why is that, Peter? I suppose it’s my fault.” 

Spencer sat back with a small smile as the two of them started to hash it out. It finally looked to be clearing until Peter’s bitterness got the better of him. “You have never appreciated what I’ve given you.”

Spencer winced internally, and Neal…Neal looked as though he’d been slapped. “I’ve never appreciated…Peter, you burned me. I trusted you, and you betrayed everything we’d built because of your own pride. You knew you were in the wrong and instead of manning up you chose to punish me.” A tear rolled down Neal’s cheek and Spencer almost had to sit on his hands to stop reaching out. “Maybe this really is over, because with all your apologies, it doesn’t look to me as though you actually feel any remorse for what you did, or that you’ve changed how you feel.” Peter looked at his hands but didn’t say anything. “I bet all of this is just to keep Hughes happy and you in line for one of those promotions you want, isn’t it?”

“No, no it isn’t. And I really do regret what I did. I’m not sure how I can make it up to you, and that’s the real reason I don’t think this will work. Every time I look at you, Neal, I feel guilty. I think about what I almost did, what could have…you’ll never understand how sorry I am. I was being childish, wanted to teach you a lesson, I never, ever, wanted to actually hurt you. Would never want to subject you to…” 

“You really mean that? You swear on Elizabeth’s life?” Peter nodded. Neal huffed, but the anger drained out of him. “Then we’re okay.” Peter looked up, surprised. “I mean it. If you genuinely didn’t plan…out of spite.” Neal leaned forward. “Peter, I miss our friendship. I don’t want you to only remember the last week, I want us both to remember better times, to make more good memories.”

“I’d like that too.” A small smile played around Peter’s lips. “You and Spencer should come to dinner. A do over. And we can celebrate your reinstatement to the White Collar team.”

“You’ll clear it with Hughes?”

“How about dinner Friday, and you start back to work next Monday?”

“Deal.” They shook on it, and then Peter held out his hand to Spencer. He really wanted to refuse, but didn’t feel it was appropriate, so he gave a brief shake and tried not to wipe his hand across his shirt. 

“Thank you, Spencer.” Peter smiled. “For moderating.”

“You are very welcome.”

 

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOX

 

It was Thursday before Neal got the call to go in to Hughes’ office. As he walked through the glass doors the whole team paused and eyed him with interest. Jones and Diana stood from their desks and smiled but gave no indication they knew what was happening. He could see Peter and Spencer already in Hughes’ office. 

“Caffrey, good. Take a seat.”

He sat in the only chair available. Peter and Hughes also had seats, Spencer leaned against the wall and smiled reassuringly. 

“I’ve received word from the powers that be on your request for commutation. They have agreed to look into it with haste, given there are only a few months left on your sentence anyway, and hope to give us a date within the next two weeks. Until then,” Hughes paused, then smiled. “As per your request, they have agreed to remove your GPS tracker. They see it as a means to gather evidence for your case.” Neal looked at Spencer, who grinned, and at Peter, whose smile was a little more reserved but still evident. “So,” Hughes said gesturing to Neal. “Spencer, would you like to do the honours?” Hughes handed the key to Spencer, who knelt in front of Neal. 

“Well, give me a hand, would you?”

“Huh?”

“Your foot, Cinderella.” Neal put his foot forward and pulled up his trouser leg. The light was already out on the anklet, and he hadn’t even noticed. Spencer unlocked it, slipped it off and placed it on the desk. “Now you’re free to go wherever you want.”

“I don’t know what to say. Or do.” It was all a bit anticlimactic. 

“I suggest you take it easy. No mad excursions until the hearing.” Hughes took the anklet. “As much as I’d like to give you this for posterity, they are very expensive, and it has to be returned to the Marshals.”

“Reece, thank you.”

“This is all on Spencer, Caffrey. I’m sure you two have a lot to talk about, some celebrating to do, maybe?” Hughes smiled. He offered his hand to Neal. “Congratulations, Neal. I look forward to having you back at the office on Monday.” He sat back down. “Well, go on, off with you.”

Neal felt numb. He wandered out of the office, Peter and Spencer behind him. Jones shook his hand and patted him on the shoulder. Dianna hugged him, a rarity in itself. Everyone was talking, but he couldn’t quite tune in to anything. Spencer pulled him into a hug. “You want to get out of here? I made sure I was finished for the day.” Neal nodded, and allowed himself to be guided from the office and into the elevator, smiling and waving at the many congratulations on the way.

“Is it real?” He asked as the elevator door closed.

“Very. And you know what else this means?” Neal looked at Spencer’s grin. “They’ve accepted your immunity clause. You are free and clear of everything, Neal. Bar being caught fencing the stolen property I happen to know you still have squirreled away, there is nothing they can charge you with any more.”

“We did it.” The realisation was slow to settle in. “We really did it? God, Spencer…” He flung his arms around Spencer’s neck. “I need to call Moz.”

“And I’ll call Garcia.”


	27. Chapter 27

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I decided to wrap this up here simply because the 'new beginning' has well and truly begun. But don't worry, the story continues in the second part of the series called 'Making it Work'...
> 
> Thank you all for your support and I hope you follow the boys on their adventure.

Spencer could hear raised voices as he made his way up the last flight of stairs to Neal’s door. He hurried the last few steps and swung the door open. Neal jumped back from where an attractive brunette with long wavy hair had her hand on his chest. He looked irritated. She looked angry. “Spencer…” 

The woman gave Spencer the once over. “Your new boyfriend is a Fed? You have got to be kidding me. What is wrong with you, Neal?”

“You need to leave,” Neal said to her.

“Why? Afraid to upset your new beau? Though I’ll give you some credit, he’s cute. If it wasn’t for the gun, I’d have never pegged him as FBI.”

“It seems good news travels fast,” Spencer said. After cataloguing the attitude, the features and searching his database of Neal’s stories Spencer realised who he was looking at.  
“Alex Hunter, I presume?”

“I guess you’ve seen my file.” She flashed him a fake smile. 

“He doesn’t work Art Crimes. Alex, you need to go now.”

“I think Neal is concerned I’ll start to profile you to see why you’re here.”

“He’s a profiler?” She threw her hands in the air. Oh, yeah, she was just as Neal described. “God, can it get any worse?”

“I’m not any more. But I did work at the BAU in Quantico for eight years.”

“Okay, let’s wrap this up.” Neal gestured for Alex to head for the door.

“No. We’re not done.” She huffed. “It’s not as though he could actually profile me.” She stepped closer and ran a long, manicured nail over Neal’s tie. “Or are you afraid of what he’ll see?”

“Give me some credit.” Spencer shook his head. “Given what I’ve just told you I used to do for a living, do you really think I would ever fall for your ruse to suggest Neal would consider cheating on me? I know we haven’t been together long, but really?”

“Okay,” she said, poking Neal in the chest, “he may have some skill.”

“The question is,” Spencer continued, taking in Neal’s overall nervous demeanour, “what would Neal be worried I’d see if I bothered to look?”

“Spencer, you stop that, right now.”

Alex smirked, and Spencer turned his attention back to her. “You’re obviously here because you’ve heard Neal’s anklet is off for good. I’ll thank Mozzie for that announcement to the criminal world later.” She folded her arms across her chest and attempted to deflect his attention. “You were expecting Neal to be looking for work, and you have a job for him…” Spencer looked back to Neal. “Ah, and Neal isn’t convinced I believe he’ll be able to say no, especially to friends he feels obligated to like Mozzie…or you.” Spencer couldn’t hide his disappointment. He thought Neal knew him better than that, better than to doubt the trust he had in Neal.

“Spencer, please…”

“Okay,” Alex said looking back to Neal. “He’s good. I’ll give you that.” 

“Alex, will you stop. I can’t do this with you right now. Spencer…”

“You were trying to manipulate him into helping you, and you were angry he was resisting… That still doesn’t explain why Neal would think I’d be upset, unless…” Spencer looked at Neal again. “Unless you’ve taken over the job Keller was here for, and like him you’ve discovered you can’t do it without Neal’s particular skillset.”

“How do you know he isn’t worried you’ll turn me in?” She went for sexy sultress, but missed by a mile because Spencer was pissed. 

“He doesn’t need to worry about that. He knows if I figure out any of the details, I wouldn’t hesitate to tell Peter. And what you probably don’t realise is if you give anything away Neal won’t be there to bail you out because he warned you to leave.”

“Okay, that has got to be annoying,” she said to Neal.

“Actually, no. It’s refreshing not to have to hide everything I’m thinking. And so far, he hasn’t been wrong.” Oh, how he wished sometimes he was. 

“So, I’m on my own now, is that it?” She grabbed her bag off the table. “I can see where I’m not wanted. You’ve changed, Neal, and not for the better.” She stormed out of the door, slamming it behind her. 

“Do you want to go after her?”

Neal shook his head. “Spencer…”

“Don’t.” Neal aborted his step towards him. He wanted to leave, wanted to go back to his own apartment and sulk. That Neal would…that Neal _could_ think he wouldn’t trust him not to make the right decision. It hurt. More deeply than he expected. He wanted to leave but he was rooted to the spot.

“Can we talk about it?”

“I’m not sure what there is say, but sure, go for it.”

“I’ve upset you.”

“Yes.”

“Can you help me to understand why? Because I have a feeling its not for the reasons I’d come up with on my own.”

“I thought…” Emotion welled up and Spencer fought back tears. “I thought we understood each other. I thought you knew me, knew how deeply I feel for you.”

“I do know that.”

Spencer’s lip trembled as he tried to stop himself crying. “Then why,” he sniffed. “Why would you…if you really understand, how could you think I’d doubt you?” Tears escaped and rolled freely over his cheeks. “I would never doubt you and yet you doubt my love for you.”

“No.” Neal stepped forward and pulled Spencer against his shoulder as he started to cry in earnest. He supposed they’d had a good run, and as first rows went, it was a bit…wet, rather than shouty. “You know I can’t lie to you, Spencer, so just listen okay?” Spencer nodded. “This is my stuff. I’m not used to people believing in me, and well, maybe things have been going a little too well with us. I’ve been waiting for the other shoe to drop and when Alex showed up here…she wouldn’t listen, she never listens, and she wouldn’t leave. She refused to believe I could leave it all behind, thought I was just trying to cut her out, that Keller had already told me the details of the job and I’d gotten him arrested so I could do it myself. I didn’t…it wasn’t that I didn’t think you’d believe me. I was upset she wouldn’t believe me, and then I wondered whether I believed myself. And it’s crazy, I know it is, but when you wouldn’t stop profiling I knew you’d see the doubt I had in myself and I thought you’d be disappointed I didn’t believe I could do it when I have you here to support me.” He stroked over Spencer’s hair. A motion he knew calmed Spencer and helped him process emotional information with a clearer head. “Spencer, you know it’s the truth. And I’m sorry, god, I’m sorry this hurt you, but you have to know I’d never doubt you, just as you’d never doubt me.” Spencer let out a long-laboured breath. “But as much as I love you and know you love me, it doesn’t mean I won’t still doubt myself, maybe for years to come, and sometimes you’re going to have to see that.”

It did make sense, and a known flaw with profiling was subjectivity when too emotionally connected that it made it possible to miss signs of projection. Spencer had profiled the correct thought patterns but was too confused and upset to associate them as Neal’s own, assuming instead Neal had placed those feelings with Spencer. “I’m sorry.” Spencer dabbed at his eyes.

“Don’t ever apologise to me for the way I make you feel, or for being you. I love you being you, and I know you know that.” Neal kissed his damp cheeks. “Please tell me we’re good.”

Spencer nodded. “God, I’m such a sap.” He was tempted to wipe his nose in his sleeve, but that would be too embarrassing for words. “I, uh…I need to get cleaned up. We’re supposed to be going to Peter’s. I can just imagine what he’ll say if he thinks you’ve made me cry.”

“Do you want to cancel? We can go tomorrow instead.”

“No. I just need a minute to pull myself together.”

“Spencer?” He looked up, and ugh, he much look such a mess. “We’re okay, right? We have to be okay, because I can’t do this without you.”

“The only time you’ll be on your own is if you tell me to leave, if you say you don’t want me here anymore, and even then, it’s doubtful I’ll actually go.” He tried for a smile, because yeah, even with how good they were together, admitting to being a future stalker should they ever break up was probably a step too far even for them. “I’m going to take a shower.” He held out his hand for Neal to join him, knowing neither of them wanted to be alone. They needed to recalibrate, reattach something Alex had unhooked, and reassure each other that every day didn’t have to be perfect for things to be good between them.

 

Standing on the doorstep of the Burke’s again was more than a little daunting, especially after the way Spencer had spoken to Elizabeth. “It’s time for a haircut,” he said absently, pushing his hair out of his face.

“Don’t you dare.” Neal swept Spencer’s hair behind his ear. “Not yet. I like it long.”

“I look like a child.”

“Oh, believe me…you don’t.” Neal bit his lip, stroked a hand over Spencer’s chest. “Really, really don’t.” The front door opened just as Spencer was going to suggest leaving it another hour, so they could _recalibrate_ a little more. 

“You made it,” Peter said. He was happy—a good start. “I hope you don’t mind but we invited a few more guests.” He stood to the side for them to pass, and the first person Spencer saw was Mozzie, then Jones, Dianna, and Greta. “We thought we’d make it a double celebration. Coming back to work and getting the anklet off.” And preventing any awkwardness with only the four of them. It was a brilliant idea. 

“Thanks, Peter.” Neal patted him on the shoulder as he passed. He was pleased about it, and that was also good. There were plenty more pats on the back and good old camaraderie to go around and Spencer allowed himself to unwind and enjoy the evening. 

It took for dinner to be over, and the evening to be winding down before Spencer was approached by Elizabeth. “Hey,” she said, smiling nervously.

Spencer raised his hand in a short wave and smiled. “It was a lovely meal. Thank you for doing this for Neal. He needed it.”

“We all did. I wanted to…”

“We all have a fresh start from here on in.”

“Yes, but I wanted to thank you for…looking out for Peter when you had no need. Of all the people here, you’re the one who doesn’t really know him.”

“I knew enough.”

“Profiler?”

Spencer shook his head. “You can tell a lot about someone by the way people close to them talk about them. All those stories of Neal’s, a few from Mozzie, even the way Diana and Jones are around him. That’s enough to know whatever was going on with him was unusual, and,” he shrugged, “sometimes we mess up. We shouldn’t lose everything because of it.”

“Do you ever mess up?”

“More often than I have any right to.”

She laughed, kissed his cheek, which made him blush, and laughed again. “You are nothing like Sarah, and I always thought she was so perfect for Neal, but you are…ah,” she smiled, “I’ve never seen him so happy and…settled. He’s settled. I’ve always thought when his sentence was up, he’d disappear to some exotic place and pick up where he left off, but you’ve given him a new life. You don’t get much more perfect than that.”

“Is that what Peter did for you?”

“Actually, yes.” She looked over at Peter, laughing with Neal and Jones. “I was a bit lost when Peter found me in that art gallery. I’d had a string of bad break-ups, with the worst guys, ugh. I was really starting to believe there were no decent men left in New York. I mean, why is it so difficult for men to only want one woman? Or man,” she added, smiling. 

“That I don’t know. I’ve never understood cheating. If you want someone new, tell the person you’re with. If you want two someone’s…or three, or four, just be honest and tell the person you’re with. Eventually, you’re going to come across someone who feels the same.”

“Right. I believe in complete honesty in a relationship, but I’d gotten to the point where I didn’t think it was possible. But it is, you just have to find the right person.” She looked at him, tilting her head as though to see more of him. “You and Neal have it too, don’t you?”

“Yes.”

“He’s told you everything about his old life. I can see it in the ease he has around you. That’s what’s different between you and Sarah. There were some things she didn’t want to know.”

“Everyone is different. I’m sure it didn’t mean she didn’t love him.”

“But it does, doesn’t it? That’s what love is, knowing everything there is to know about someone, good and bad, and loving them…wanting to be with them anyway.”

“Like you still loving Peter even though you thought he loved Neal?”

“Oh, he does love Neal, but yeah, I called that one wrong. I see it more clearly now.”

“And?”

“It’s more than brotherly love, there’s maybe a bit of a father-son thing going on there, but also I don’t know…maybe it’s a comrades-in-arms thing. What do you see?”

“I think you’re right. Neal has been looking for someone to have faith in him, someone to need him to be a better person, and he found that in Peter. Peter…I think Peter was confused there for a while what the vibe he was getting from Neal was all about. The touching…” Elizabeth tensed. “I think he was unconsciously trying to offer Neal what he thought he wanted. Peter wanted to make him better, to fix him, look after him, maybe? I don’t know, its difficult to pin it down because my presence has such an impact on their dynamic. I’m not an objective profiler in this situation, I’m right in the middle of everything.”

“I’m glad you are, though. Despite everything that’s happened, I can honestly say things are working out so much better with you around.” She patted his thigh. “You know I wouldn’t lie to a profiler.”

He was sure she would lie to him, if she thought she was protecting Peter, but she wasn’t lying at that particular moment. “I appreciate the thought.”

“What’s got you two so cosy over here in the corner?” Neal slipped in close to Spencer, arm snaking around his waist. 

“Talking about the ones we love,” Elizabeth said. “I’m so pleased for you Neal.”

“Thank you. And thank you for a lovely dinner party.” He kissed Spencer’s cheek. “The others are talking about going on to the club. Do you want to join them?”

“Why not, it will round off the evening very nicely.” Neal stepped closer still, one leg between Spencer’s where he was perched on the edge of the table and nuzzled for a full kiss.  
Spencer obliged, ignoring Diana’s cat-calls until Peter called time. 

“PG-13 for guests in this house,” he joked. “Elle, do you want to go dancing with the rest of them?”

“I thought it made you dizzy,” she teased. 

“I can cope with that tonight.”

“Oh, you should definitely come, Elizabeth,” Neal said, still holding on to Spencer. “I’ve been teaching Spencer the lambada.”

“And the salsa,” Spencer added. “We’re getting pretty good.”

“We’ll join you if one of you can convince my husband to have a go at swing dancing.”

Neal grinned. “Done. As soon as he sees Jones and Greta on the dancefloor, he won’t be able to resist competing.”

“Then let’s go.”

 

All was finally well, again. Until the next time. Spencer chugged down his water and watched Neal flip Miandra on the dancefloor. He slipped into the booth to rest for a few songs. He’d barely caught his breath when Mozzie sat beside him. “It wasn’t me, you know.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Alex. Neal told me he had a guest this afternoon. Gave me an earful for blabbing, but I didn’t tell a soul. She must have been calling on him hoping he’d be able to get around the  
tracker as he had before. As Keller was expecting him to.”

“I think Keller was just going to cut it and take Neal with him.”

“That’s certainly possible. But, anyway, I just wanted you to know. I’ve never been supportive of Neal’s murmurings about giving up the life, but this time…with you, I think he’s making the right choice.”

“I appreciate that, Moz, and Neal will too.”

“I just hope you realise how much money it takes to keep Neal in the lifestyle he’s accustomed to.”

“We’ll manage, I’m sure.” After the full and open conversation they were due to have about income as soon as the Bureau made an offer of employment.

“All those vintage suits of Byron’s, half of them are new bespoke tailored specifically for Neal, and at a hefty price tag. The suit has always been oblivious to it. Neal spends more on an Italian knit sweater, than I would think to on my entire Christmas gift list, and his wine collection…” Mozzie shook his head. “There’s a reason I drink at his instead of mine.”

“I know all of that, and more.” And he did. He’d laughed for ten minutes when Neal told him about the closet full of brand new suits Peter thought were hand-me-down’s. Nobody, not even Neal, could have clothes off the rack that fitted so perfectly. The same could be said for his shoes. Spencer had seen enough handmade shoes working with Rossi to recognise the same quality in Neal’s wardrobe. Even Neal’s bath towels were almost on par with Amangiri, and his bedding…well, Spencer like to indulge in good bedding but his didn’t come close to Neal’s. He realised Mozzie was studying him.

“You do know, don’t you?” Mozzie was surprised, and Spencer smiled. “That’s good. I guess he told you about the $2 million dollars too.”

“He did.”

“Is that going to be a problem for me anytime soon?”

“Not as far as I’m concerned. Neal has immunity for everything before Hughes, remember.” They both grinned.

“In that case, it’s going to be easier to keep Neal happy than originally thought. Has he given you a ballpark figure for his net worth?”  
Spencer nodded. He didn’t want to talk about this without Neal, because he didn’t know how much more he knew than Mozzie, and he didn’t want to drop Neal in it.

“That’s interesting,” Mozzie said. “And good. I estimate I know a little over half of what he is actually still holding. If anyone should know more, it’s you. I’m glad he found you, Spencer.”

“I assure you the arrangement is mutually beneficial. My life has improved beyond measure with Neal in it.”

“I guess nobody here sees that part. Garcia has never said much about your life before New York the couple of times I’ve seen her.”

“I didn’t have a life before New York. Or at least that’s what everyone used to tell me. I was content enough with my books, and my research, but they always tried to convince me I was missing something. I thought I’d found it with Maeve, but then…” He sighed. “And now, with Neal, I understand what they were talking about, but I also realise they have no idea. They were selling me a dream they didn’t have themselves, telling me I needed to be more like them to find it, when in reality, the only way to find it is to be exactly who you are.”

Mozzie raised his glass. “Amen to that.” They clinked glass to water bottle and grinned. If Spencer had followed everyone’s advice to hide who he was, to cut his hair, and wear standard FBI attire, Neal wouldn’t have given him a second glance. He’d have just been another new suit in the FBI elevator that day. If there was ever a story to support the concept of being true to yourself, theirs was it. And Spencer had a good feeling that it would continue to be for a long while yet. He'd come to New York looking for a new beginning, starting fresh and building a life on firm foundations. It had been choppy here and there, but as far as new beginnings went, Spencer counted this one as a success.


	28. Chapter 28

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The initial opening to Chapter One of 'Making it Work'...

“What are our options?” Neal tossed his favourite rubber back ball into the air as he leaned back on his chair in the conference room.

Peter perused the screen and the file in front of him. It was an embezzlement case similar to one they worked in an exclusive school a few years back but this time it was linked to a prestigious college and involved staff pensions. “I think we only have one.”

Neal dropped forward in his chair. “You’re sending someone in?” He was part excited, part concerned. “I’m not sure I can get away with being a college professor, maybe at state but not there.”

“I know. But it has to be a teaching role, we won’t get into the right social circle with grounds staff. The question is, where do we find an agent who can pass off as a college professor on such short notice?”

“Oh,” Neal smiled, “I think you’ll find we have a room full of potential candidates a couple of floors below us.”

“Spencer?”

“Or any one of his team. They all have the ability to study up for a few days and get the job done. One of the many benefits to being a genius, apparently.”

“Hm, I don’t think Reece or Dougie give off the right vibe for this school, Miandra looks about twelve, Greta maybe, but Spencer…he’s perfect, and there’s the added bonus of his experience in the field should the situation go sideways. You want to ask him to come up or shall we visit?”

Neal grinned. “Let’s go visit. They have an espresso machine, after all.”

“Great.” 

 

Things were good again with Peter, and life without his tracker was surprisingly much the same. Admittedly, it had only been three weeks, but even so, nothing had really changed other than getting out of the city on weekends with Spencer. Okay, that was exceedingly good. Last weekend they’d gone to Boston and walked the Freedom Trail, visited the Athenaeum, attended an art exhibition, and stayed at the Mandarin Oriental. The bath, well, it was a jacuzzi, had a mirrored wall next to it. Yeah, that had been very good, indeed. Thank goodness for silicone-based lube. 

“Oh, hey,” Miandra greeted them as they exited the lift. “Have you come to visit the espresso machine?”

“Absolutely.” Neal grinned. “Is Spencer around? I’ll take him one as well.”

“No you don’t. He’s already had too many today. We’ve restricted his intake for all our sanity. Regular coffee for him.”

“Got it.” 

“You’re still alone on this floor?” Peter asked, looking around at the newly refurbished empty offices.

“Yeah, it was finished a couple of weeks ago. I think management have forgotten they moved Corporate Fraud just after we arrived, and they are obviously happier wherever they ended up and aren’t pestering to get back.” She sighed. “I don’t think they liked us very much.”

“It wouldn’t be that,” Neal said.

“I don’t think they liked that we cleared so many cold cases for them in such a short time. But we were excited, you know. It was the few weeks before Spencer joined us. Spencer said we should spread out, because as soon as we start to make use of the space they’ll want it back. But in truth, we have too much space for four of us already.” She grinned. “At least the break room is quiet.”

“I can’t believe you have a break room at all,” Peter grumbled. “We have an alcove.” 

“If they combine those promotions they offered you into one role, Peter, perhaps you could ask for an office here to give Jones some space as your new ASAC upstairs. It would give us a valid excuse to visit the espresso machine.”

“That could work. Or, I could just order a machine for White Collar, and then I wouldn’t keep losing my consultant on trips to see his boyfriend, or my ASAC to see his girlfriend.”

Neal pouted, but it was probably for the best. None of them would get any work done if the two teams merged at every coffee break. “I’ll, uh…go visit my boyfriend then, while I have a legitimate reason.”

“I’ll go. You bring coffee.”


End file.
